Ghost in the Water
by TaylorPaige24
Summary: I wasn't always the girl with the curves and nice legs. The girl that had no friends. The lonely party girl who drank a little too much. I had a life. I had a family. I had friends. I was a human shell with nothing inside. That all changed when those cocky blue eyes looked my way. He came into my life, and nothing was ever the same. - Sylvia's story.
1. Life After Life

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the _Outsiders_.

**A/N: **It was a solid win on the poll so I decided if that's what the public wants, they shall get it!

Please note that this is a year or two before the events of the book.

* * *

Mary is a whore - the devil. It's what my sister and my grandma have told me all my life. In every class room I see pictures of Mary and I think of what they've told me about her. In Sunday school they teach us that she was a good girl. She always followed the rules, listened to her parents, and was obedient. She was the mother of Jesus - a _virgin_.

They didn't tell us that part in Sunday school. I didn't learn that until middle school when we had the sex talk. Can you imagine? A room full of nuns...talking about sex? I couldn't until it actually happened. It's hard to relive that moment.

Chrissy disagrees with the whole thing. _"Mary was a whore, Syl. She lied to everyone and they just believed her because she threw God's name into the mix. It's all a joke."_

I told my seventh grade teacher that one year. I got suspended for two weeks.

My grandma knows more about the Bible than my parents. They don't think so, but I think she does. She doesn't believe in it and that's why we didn't visit more. I'm told always when we leave not to believe anything she says because she's old and hasn't been right in the head since grandpa died.

When she died they gave Chrissy and I a speech. They told us, thirteen and seventeen year old girls, that she had gone to Hell. We would never see her again.

That's the same speech they gave me when Chrissy left last year. Word for word. The only difference - Chrissy didn't die.

"My mom is taking me to the mall this weekend to get a dress for your party!" Cynthia sits her tray down in front of me. It's full of sweets - cookies and pudding to be exact.

She's only saying this because I couldn't get a dress for my own party. My dad lost some shifts at the lumber yard this week and since we're already paying for pizza and cake, a dress wasn't in the budget. I have to wear an old one. A hammy down I should say because all of my clothes once belonged to Chrissy. The only problem with that - I don't have the chest to fill.

"Who gives a shit?" Lucy jumps into the lunch table conversation. "My mom even promised me new shoes! Yippie!"

My parents can't afford this school. They dish out money every year to impress their friends but there's only so much after the tuition alone. It's the only Catholic school in the city. They don't think public school can offer me the things this school can. So they write the check every year, hoping that maybe it'll make me a better person than my sister.

They told us we go here because public school doesn't teach us about God and the Bible. As if going to church every Sunday and Mass on Friday wasn't enough. We get to learn of all the wrong doings we've all done and what wrong doings we are not allowed to commit, the thoughts we are not allowed to think.

And they wonder why Chrissy and I begged to go to public school.

"Are you excited about your birthday?" Ruth asks. "It's the big fifteen!"

I nod picking at my fruit cup my mom packs me every day in my bag. I stare at Cynthia's cakes on her tray and her soda pop. I've never had either of those things. Once, I think, at my grandma's house when I was a kid.

Ruth admires my necklace, twisting the locket back and forth on its chain. She's so close to me that I can smell her bubble gum and see the oily pours popping out of her skin like mini volcanoes just waiting to explode with puss.

"Is Chrissy going to be there?"

I shake my head. "No."

"Have you spoken to her?"

"Did you invite her?"

I couldn't do either. They know this. They're just saying it anyway. All of them look except for Lucy who's too wrapped up in her mystery meat to notice or make another wise comment.

"No. She's...busy that weekend. Her boyfriend is taking her out of town for a vacation to see a concert."

All three gape. "A concert!"

"Yeah."

They look at each other, each thinking the same thing. We're told what happens at those things. The hippies all meet up, exchanging LSD and pot and sitting on blankets as they jam out to devil music that's rotting their minds more than the drugs are. The nuns talk about it, then their parents, then the news.

Lucy uncovers her mouth to speak. She's half smiling, half jealous that she's not the one there. "Do your parents know?"

"No."

They wouldn't. They don't speak. The communication line was cut a year ago and neither side was mending it.

_"What are you doing?"_

_I sit on the end of her bed, watching her throw shirts and skirts into an open suitcase. She's tearing the room we share apart. "Go help Mom with dinner or something."_

_I watch as more clothes are thrown across the room. More land on the floor than in the suitcase. She's emptying out her whole closet and most of mine. This isn't exactly the first time I'd seen my big sister do this._

_"You're already in enough trouble, you know," I point out. "If you make a mess of the room you won't be able to see Booker ever again. You better stop. They're really mad, Chris. Just lay off."_

_She stops and leans up. She curls her back up like a cat, making it pop. She runs a hand through her long blonde hair that comes to her butt, and looks around her at the mess she's made. "No, Syl. This is the last straw."_

_Chrissy changed her clothes. She started wearing skirts that showed off her butt, tops that showed off her boobs. She began straightening her hair with an iron and she practiced walking with heels. My parents noticed the change. They bought her sweaters and kept her inside on Friday nights. They did everything they could to shelter her a little bit longer. It was too little too late for that though._

_Five months ago, Chrissy brought a boy home. A long haired, smelly, pot smoking guy. She brought him into our two bedroom shack on the edge of town, smiling with glee as she showed him around. She held his hand as they passed through the hallway that's painted with crosses and family pictures._

_She took him into the kitchen and they both sat down in front of my parents and said as plainly as day: "We're atheists."_

_You'd think an atomic bomb went off at that very moment. My parents, the people who spent their lives and ours in church, were speechless at their eldest daughter._

_That's when things really went downhill._

_"Christian!" my mother shouts from the living room. The house is small. You can never say you don't hear our parents calling for you. It's in your best bet to go when you're called._

_Chrissy slams a blouse down in the bag and stomps into the living room where both my parents sit, arms folded. I follow her, standing behind so I'm not noticed right away._

_"Young lady, we've had enough of this nonsense!" My father's voice is always strong. Always boisterous._

_My mother stands with a cold stone face. She makes Chrissy sit so she's standing above her, judging her even more. She always does this when either of us is in trouble. I hated it with a passion. It made me feel so beneath her._

_"You will not see him again," Mom says quietly. "We mean it this time, Christian."_

_Chrissy snickers, not hiding it. Chrissy is no longer scared of my parents like me. She hasn't been for some time._

_"Something funny?" my father asks._

_Chrissy covers her mouth a little, obviously still laughing. "You know, in the Bible it says not to judge. I've read the book cover-to-cover just like you, yet, you stand here, judging someone you don't know."_

_"We know him," Dad reiterates. "We caught you smoking with the boy, having sex, sneaking around, not once, but three or four times!"_

_"What makes you think I was hiding it?"_

_Mom rubs her face. "What has gotten into you? This is not the girl we raised!"_

_Chrissy sits back in the arm chair, clearly comfortable. "No. The girl you raised had no opinion because she wasn't allowed to. She wasn't allowed to speak without a command. The daughter you raised was dog…..and I killed her."_

_Mom turns on her heel and lets out a loud sigh. She no longer will look at Chrissy. Only my dad._

_"You best shut up with that talk!" The shouts are getting louder. The dogs in the neighborhood are beginning to bark again, as they do almost every night._

_Chrissy, still unfazed, raises her eyebrows. "Daddy, I'm your little girl all grown up. Can you not see how grown up I am, Daddy? You've seen me when I shower, and when I'm having sex. I see you looking at me. I see the way you grab yourself when Mommy isn't around and it's just the two of us."_

_"Enough!"_

_The first blow comes from my mother. She wipes around, landing a solid hard smack to her right cheek. I take a step back and control my tears. I can't cry like every other night when I'm sent to my room, waiting for them to come in and tell me to never repeat the things that are said at night._

_Chrissy keeps her head turned away after the blow. She still has a smile on her face, though, unlike most nights, it's far from sad. "That all you got, Mommy?"_

_Dad gets up and I'm scared. I back up so he won't see me. My back hits the wall._

_"I've had enough of this!" He gets down in her face. He makes her look at him. "Listen here, you ungrateful little bitch. You've got about three seconds to apologize to your mother and I and get your SHIT together before I take my belt off and beat the living SHIT out of you!"_

_I've rarely heard my father say those words. I said them once when I was six and got spanked and had my mouth washed out with soap. Normally, this would shock me in some way. Tonight, it's not a rare occasion for him to say that. Not since Booker showed up. I'd seen a different side of my parents since that day. I'd seen a different side of my sister...or was it the real Chrissy, just waiting to come out?_

_Chrissy's stare is strong. It's cold and it's blazing hot. She has the same stare as dad; one of hard exterior and an even harder interior to back it up. "Go ahead. Hit me all you want. Make me bleed. Leave markings. I won't hide them. After tonight, I'm gone…..you will never see me again. So go ahead, Daddy. Give me one last beating for the road. It'll be the last fucking time you'll ever touch me."_

* * *

_Splat._ There's a warm sensation as it runs down my leg. I feel soaked down to my underwear.

"Shoot!"

Lucy's at the sinks, reapplying her pink lipstick. The heel of her foot it popped out so the bottom of her shoe sticks out. She smacks her lips together over and over again. She sneers as she listens to me inside the stall. I watch her reach into her purse from the crack of the door.

Her heels clank as she bends over and hands me the pad from underneath the door. "You're such a baby, Syl."

I stand up, flushing the toilet behind me. "It starts at the most shitty times."

She pops her lips again and goes back to the mirror. "Better not say that too loud. Sister Kathryn will come in here. Can you just imagine? Being dragged out by your pretty long hair? She'll march you right down to the office. Oh heavens no!"

I laugh, washing my hands with the spring smelling soap. I can't help but watch Lucy through the mirror. The way she fixes her hair and puts on her make-up. I used to sit and watch Chrissy do the same, then she'd do mine.

I reach down into my back and get out the little pink ribbon. Leaning backwards, I pull my hair back, tying a crisp bow.

"God I wish I had your lips." Her dark nails click the cap back on the stick. "Naturally red and thick. Snow White the princess going to Saint Mary's. You make the rest of us look like the witch...after she turned into the old lady."

I rub some water on a paper towel and make sure there's no blood still on my legs. Lucy is gorgeous and she knows it. She just wants me to say it. As if her boyfriend doesn't tell her a million times a day as is.

"Did you see the gum on Cynthia's skirt at lunch?" She looks at me, practically beaming with pride.

I raise up from the sink. I shake my head though I don't hide my devious grin. "You're going to hell."

She shrugs. "Ah, what else is new?" She flips her hair a few times, just to make sure it's fluffed to the best of its ability. "I can't stand her. You just had to go invite her to your party. Now I get to hear about how _pretty_ her cupcake dress is."

"She's a spoiled bitch. Did you hear her bragging at lunch? She did that on purpose," I say as I wipe under my eyes with the paper towel. "Her mom's friends with mine. That's why I invited her."

Lucy shakes out her hair, making sure every strand is in its place. "Well, don't be offended if I bale out a little early and go get high with Tim behind the garbage in your backyard. You're more than welcome to join us if you want."

I giggle at the thought. I picture my parents finding her and what they may say. They'll insist on calling her mother and Tim's. Between the both of them, they may get in touch with someone's mother. Though around five is usually happy hour at most of the bars. If they call any later than that, they're guaranteed to find them passed out on the sofa.

"I think I'm gonna pass. Kinda lame to bale on your own party after all. My always mother taught me to be a good host."

Lucy looks down in her purse as she snorts. "Oh, how could I forget? Little Ms. Sylvia Mason would never be caught dead with a joint in her mouth. What will Mommy and Daddy do if they caught their little peaches and cream delight daughter smoking, taking after her big sister?"

I flick water at her from the built up sink. "Shut up! I've smoke before."

"Oh have you?" She raises both of her eyebrows, eager to hear this story. "You've had sex too, right?"

I fiddle with my things, taking my time putting everything back in its right bag. I can feel Lucy's icy glare on my back. She's waiting for me even though she already knows all the answers. She's been my best friend since grade school. She knows.

"Sylvia Mason, you virgin!"

I quickly reach over and shove her on the shoulder. "Shut up! Don't scream it out like that!"

She hysterically laughs as she catches her balance. "Oh look at the little baby! C'mon now Syl. Being a virgin is a good thing. Save yourself for marriage. Or better yet, become a nun! They don't have sex at all!"

"I'm gonna shove that lipstick down your fucking throat if you don't shut your trap!"

"I can't even picture you having sex." Her voice level goes down. She grabs her bags from the floor and begins to head out the door, her heels leading the way. Her long legs seem to go on forever as I look up at them. "Baby, Sylvia. Such a bad one. The wild one of the group. I can see it now."

I scramble for my things and rise to get to the door first. "Bite me, Lucy."

Lucy lost her virginity a long time ago. I'm not sure of the time because Lucy O'Donald is also known as a pathological liar. She's been on pills for everything from anorexia to depression. She speaks crazy and not everyone can understand her at time. I can listen through the spears of madness.

As we walk through the halls, she walks with a kind of confidence you can only find in a Vogue fashion show. She always looks and acts like she's on the runway at all times and people take notice. When I'm with her, I feel the eyes of the worshipers. The little catholic school girls with pimples and glasses that only dream of being Lucy O'Donald for just a day.

She stops at our set of lockers. She bends her knee a little and does a flick of her hair before she looks down the hall.

Lucy presses her lips together, holding back a witty smirk as she eyes the boy at the end of the hall. He's got a stack of books in his hands, grease in his hair, and big black boots that are heard all the way across town. He has his shoulders back, strutting through the halls, only having his eyes set on her.

"Hey baby." He spins her, kissing her lips.

I can see her smile under his big lips that are now a nice shade of pink. "You cut lunch again. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't let you drive me home after school."

He has his arm tight around her waist. He pulls her stomach into him, jerking her. "'Cause I'm me, doll. You know you can't resist a man in uniform, Lucy Lou."

Lucy giggles like a little girl. She quickly wipes the grin from her face and presses her lips back together again. "Ok. You owe me big time though, mister. I mean it. I wanna see that movie at the drive-in this weekend and you're gonna take me."

"I got shit to do, sweets."

"Well," she parts from him, pushing him away. She shuts the door to her locker and spins around so her skirt comes up a little, giving us all a little peek at the pearl white panties she has on. "That's too bad for you then, now isn't it?"

Tim shakes his head and locks arms with her. She passes off her book which he carries with his other hand.

I follow behind them and head out to the parking lot where the buses are. I talk to Tim about cars and movies and gather stares from Lucy until we reach the end of the pavement.

We've known Tim Shepard since we were kids. We've gone to school together all our lives. You could say we were like siblings in a way. If you wanted to go that far that is.

I'd be lying if I never thought about Tim. He was Lucy's so I promised never to think anything more after they announced their love and she told me I could never get someone like him. It still doesn't stop me from picturing him in ways I shouldn't.

"There's my ride."

My eyes follow Tim's finger. It points to a blue car just behind the lot of buses. A guy with shades on steps out.

Then it's like what we all see in movies. The director or editors, whatever they are, slow down the speed so it draws attention to the character of importance. It pinpoints the sexuality of the scene, aiming to make all the girls in the theater hot and wet by the time the clip goes back to normal speed.

Too bad my panties are already wet.

It'd be corny for me to say I couldn't look away. In fact, I made it clear that I wasn't looking at him though I did sneak peeks at this blue eyed devil with a blue jean jacket coming toward is. The way he walked, the way he pulls his glasses off once he got closer made me sweat a little. I could feel it running down my inner thighs. He could walk out into New York traffic, all four lanes speeding, and they'd all stop and just stare.

"Who is that?" Lucy elbows Tim's side, demanding he tell her immediately.

My temperature rises as he gets closer. My cheeks turn red as he notices me. He can see me. He's looking at me. What do I do? Should I look back? No, that'd show that I'm looking. I want to look though. Shit, I always suck at this part.

"Tim! Who is that guy?"

The ground under me seems to shake as he comes to a halt in front of us. The corners of his lips go up a little. He's looking at Lucy now, not me. This is something I'm used to and I can feel my heart rate slowing back down.

I scowl, glaring and listening.

"Ditch the broad and the dead weight and let's go, Timmy."

"Broad?"

"Dead weight?"

The boys both sneer at each other, satisfied at their ability to tick us both off at the same time. "Yeah. You heard me."

He eyes me now. I'm already staring so when he does, our eyes meet. He looks me over, not hiding the fact that he's checking me out. He starts at me shoes, pauses at my crotch, and then resumes going up to the chest and then the face. I can tell by the look on his face that's he's pleased. I pose a little, trying not to make it obvious.

"I'm no broad," Lucy states, snappy. "Hello! I don't know who you are but you need to really check yourself when you talk to girls. You'll never get fucked if this is your way of flirting, bub."

He's looking at me. He doesn't hear her or notice her. No one ever does that to Lucy. She's _the_ Lucy. This guy, he's scanning me over, not caring that I notice him or not. He's confident, almost cocky. Defiantly cocky.

"Dallas. You, dead weight?"

"If you'd ask a little nicer I might tell you."

"I like your bow, _Sugar."_

Lucy's eyes beam us both as, yet again, she goes unnoticed.

I reach up and touch the smooth fabric that is my bow. I bite my lip. My face turns hot. I stand on one leg, ignoring my embarrassment. "Was it so hard to be nice? Did that just kill you a little inside? You got a last name, Dallas?"

"You got a first?"

"Sylvia. I'm Sylvia Mason."

He smirks. It's a cocky type of laugh, almost like a snort. It's smooth. Little did I know at the time, I'd be hearing that smirk in my dreams and nightmares for years after this first encounter. "Me, you, Timmy and his broad-"

"I'm not a broad, asshole!"

"Movies," he continues, not missing a beat. "Don't bother getting dressed."

* * *

**A/N: **If anyone has read_ Is There Anyone Out There?_ This will be like that as far as format goes. I am relating it back to one of the chapters in _Poison and Wine_ when I mentioned Sylvia's past. I'm aiming for 8 chapters. PW will still continue as planned, just not this week.

Thanks for reading and please leave a review!


	2. Less Than a Whisper

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Outsiders.

**A/N: **Thank you guys so very much for the reviews!

* * *

"Darker. Here, hold still!"

I close my eyes as she applies the black make-up we bought at the CVS down town. I bought it with the few dollars I had left from my allowance. My parents never give me much for the chores I do. They are afraid of what may happen if they do.

I'm wearing Lucy's skirt. It's short and I can feel the coldness of my seat because the fabric doesn't cover my butt.

The stockings she's made me wear are Chrissy's. The underwear and bra I'm wearing are hers too. Lucy picked them out for me because all of mine are either white or pink. She tells me that boys don't like that and that's why I'm still a virgin.

"You look like a cheap whore," I say, looking at her outfit. It's a small comeback but she sees it as more of a complement than anything. "My mom will pitch a fit if she sees you leave here."

Lucy caps up all the make-up that's spilled across the dresser. "What do you think Mommy is gonna say about you?"

I look at myself through the full body mirror. My mom says I have a "dancer's body" and Lucy tells me I'm perfectly skinny with a big butt but no boobs. That's why she hands me a box of tissues.

"Aren't you gonna use some?" I ask, talking out a few.

She flips her hair over, spraying it down. "Does it look like I need some?"

No. Lucy has breasts the size of Texas. Everyone at school swears she stuffs but I saw her change tonight and put that theory to rest. They're bigger than my mom's. She says my family is just cursed and hers is blessed.

"That's too much!" Lucy snatches the handful of tissues in my hand and fixes them. "Pull your shirt out. I'll do it."

I do as I'm told. I feel her ice cold hand on my breasts. She puts them in places and then fixes my bra to make them look even bigger. She pulls my top down so my cleavage line shows.

"You look boss, Syl. Dally is gonna be all over you tonight!"

Dally. He called me last night to make sure we're on for our date. We stayed on the phone for hours until my father came home from work and lectured me about using up the phone. I didn't tell him I was on the phone with a boy. I would never.

There are things I've learned from Chrissy's mistakes. I've learned how not to get the crap kicked out of me by my dad and how to get away with little things - smoking, drinking, dating. My parents don't think I've had my first kiss yet.

"How do I look?" Lucy spins around in her heels. "You think Tim can resist _this_?"

No. I barely can. Lucy flaunts her hotness. "No. He's gonna love it, Lou."

She smacks her lips together before grabbing her back, and me, and rushing out the door. "Perfect, let's go."

My dad's in the living room. It's Friday night and he always gets the TV. Mom is always in the kitchen cleaning up tonight's dinner and later, she'll join him in watching some program without sex or drugs or violence. Usually a movie - a Western.

Lucy puts her finger up to her lips and laughs as she shushes me. We tip-toe around like we're sneaking into a house or robbing a bank. I don't know what she thinks she's going to accomplish. Out house is twenty feet around. There is not enough room to sneak in. That was always Chrissy's problems. Nights when she's sneak in after she had just smoked a joint in the car, Dad would always be right there, belt in hand. He'd drag her to her bed room and shut the door. I couldn't go in for a while and Mom would hide away as if she didn't know.

"Oh my!" A plate hits the bottom of the sink and soap goes all over my mouth. She wipes her hands off on her apron and comes running towards me. "What in heaven's name are you wearing?"

I bite my lip as my dad gets up from his chair and comes over. His eyes get wider than Mom's. "Young lady, what is this!"

"Hello, Mr. Mason," Lucy jumps to, taking some of the attention off of me. "We were just going to go catch a movie and get some ice-cream. Sylvia is more than welcomed to come to my house afterwards, that is, if it's ok with you."

My dad's rage is too thick for Lucy's sucking up though he is all for sucking up.

I bite down harder on my poor lip. I can taste the metallic blood seeping through and coating my teeth. It turns my already dark red lips even darker. The back of my knees and upper thighs are sweating.

"I'm sorry Lucy, but neither of you are leaving dressed like that!"

Lucy comes to my rescue, yet again. If she wasn't here, I know just what my father would want to do to me. He wouldn't do it in front of her though. Oh no, he has a reputation to uphold in this town. "It's just a costume, Mr. Mason. It's costume night down at the drive in. Everyone will be in character."

"Wear your old Halloween costume," he growls out.

A pink bunny. That's what I was the last time I wore a costume. Chrissy and I were matching rabbits. That was the last Halloween we went trick-or-treating and let our mother pick out what we were to wear.

"Go. Change."

I bite my lip a little bit harder. Lucy is scrambling for words. "Mr. Mason-"

"Lucy, I'm not talking to you."

Lucy is taken aback. She's probably never been told no before in her life or hushed by anyone other than a nun. She's never seen or heard my father like this before. She has no idea how loud he can really get.

I grab Lucy sweaty warm hand and hold it. "We'll just spend the night here. We'll go get ready for bed."

"Good," both of them say in sequence.

I take Lucy back into my room and slowly close the door behind us.

"What was that shit about?" She's raging mad and she's chasing me as I fix everything in the room. "I'm not staying here tonight because your parents said no. They can't tell me what to do. I'm going to see my boyfriend!"

She's like a five year old who just got punished. A spoiled princess is what everyone at school calls her. She's throwing a temper tantrum right in the middle of my room. If I ever did something like that, I would be dog chow.

"Keep your voice down," I say quietly. I go by the light switch and turn it off. I fix both of the beds with cushions and pull up the blankets. "Unlock the window."

She huffs, putting her hands on her hips. "You have got to be kidding me."

I ignore her, going to do it myself. "I said shut up. I've seen Chrissy do this a billion times. Just climb out."

"Goddamnit." She sticks one foot over the edge of the window. "The things I do for you."

* * *

The boys are getting bigger the closer we get. I look away and try not to stare. I can't turn red. I can't smile the way I do when I'm nervous, with my cheeks twitching and lips turned lopsided. That wouldn't be cool and I need to be cool here.

I need to ignore the burn where Lucy is gripping my wrist. I don't wonder why she's holding me so tight and why I can't just walk on my own. I don't look like anyone compared to Lucy. Maybe that's why she's holding me like this and walking me over like it's my first day of school and she's my over protected mother.

She won't let me out of her sight. I can't bail out and maybe that's the reason she has me so tightly wound around her. There is no other way here. I can't run. I can only go forward to the boys with Lucy - to Dallas.

"Hey there," Dally says to me once we're close enough.

Lucy breaks her hold of my and almost jumps into Tim's arms. They look like star-crossed lovers who have been away from each other for months. They look like the couples on the news who are reunited after the war.

"Hi," I say to him. He's staring at me. I don't know what to do but I feel so far away from him. I step closer.

He smirks, blowing out smoke from his cigarette. "Would you look at them legs? Mmmmm."

I can feel my face get red. I've gotten complements from boys before. There's something about Dally though that makes me sweat. Something that makes me crave and want – something I've never felt before. Even just standing here, all I want to do is kiss him. He stands with so much confidence that it makes me nerves and scared and excited.

He bought me a coke and now he's sitting beside me, his knee touching mine. He has his hand on my bare thigh and he's gently stroking it and inching it up more and more as if I don't notice. We're all giggling and laughing and not paying any attention to the movie or the old people behind us that are shushing us.

I look over and Lucy has taken her position on Tim's lap. She was dying to see this movie but she only lifts her head up for air. It's not an uncommon sight. One night, she set me up with Tim's friend. We went to the lot and smoked and talked and then she got really quiet. She was giving him a blow job right there in front of all of us.

"Tell me something about you."

It's a demand. He doesn't put any light on it like it's an option for me to answer. I have to. "I like horses."

"You ever rode a bull?"

I shake my head. I bite down hard on the end of my straw. I feel like a little thirteen year old on her first date. "No. Have you?"

He smirks and holds back a big laugh. He shakes his head and smiles. "Nah, honey. I don't go that way."

I keep biting down on my straw as he cracks up even more. He throws some popcorn at Tim and tells him how I've never rode a bull. He and Lucy both start cracking up too and Lucy hits me on my arm. "Oh, _baby_ Sylvia."

I sink down in my seat. "I didn't know what he meant."

"Sure you didn't. You haven't anyway."

"You don't know that."

She rolls her eyes and goes back to her old position. I can feel my body sinking further down in my seat. My heart is pounding and there's this liquid bubbling inside of me. It's running up my throat and begging to come out. It's an angry feeling that's taking over my body.

Dally stares at my face as if he expects me to say something or just laugh and tell him all the boys I've been with. Instead I just shake my head and bite my lip. "I'm-"

His hands grab my face. He pushes me onto him and his lips mash against mine. I scramble in my seat. It feels like I've just been punched but I haven't and I realize there's a pair of lips on mine - Dallas Winston's lips. The Dallas Winston everyone talks about at school, even the nuns. He's holding me and putting his tongue in my mouth.

My body relaxes as if he just released some sort of poison into me and I'm on the verge of death. I'm just here and it's him who is playing and kissing me though I feel my lips moving but I don't remember making them.

I can feel my hand trembling as he pulls apart for some air. His warm breath hits my face.

"Aye! Knock it off you two!"

"Bite me, old man!"

I can't feel my chest. I can't feel anything.

"You're red," he says. He sneers and reaches out and touches my hot cheeks. "Nervous, sweets?"

I swallow down his flavor. It runs down my mouth and it tastes like heaven. It tastes like a big sundae on a hot day. The kind with nuts and hot sauce and a cherry on top. I want more. I want to eat more ice cream and to have that taste in my mouth. I've never had that taste before. My lips have never been numb this way before.

"Speechless," he says. "I tend to have that effect on women. It's a gift. Comes in handy a lot."

I touch my lips to make sure they're still attached to my face. I lick them over with my touch and taste the nickel lip gloss I bought at the CVS. I lick them over and over again to get any taste I can of Dally's.

I think of Chrissy at this moment. I think about all the nights when she'd dance into our room and tell me stories of boys and kisses and how I've always dreamed of being her and having those kisses and those feelings. She'd fall on her bed and just glow and beam and you could tell she was in love.

It occurs to me, Dallas is Chrissy's type. The type of boy that made her feel this way. The boy who took her away - who saved her from the cruel world we were both forced to live.

When she was with this boy, nothing else mattered. He took her away. Could Dally do me?

"Aye, sweets. You breathing?"

"Y-Yeah," I stammer, coming back down from the trip he sent me on. "You should come to my party," I say and I feel like a little kid and I wish I hadn't even mentioned it. It's going to be a baby party and he's not going to want to come. He's too cool for baby birthday parties.

Instead of saying anything right away, he smirks. He blows smoke from his cigarette. "You gonna have booze?"

_What would Chrissy do? _"Uh, yeah! Tons!"

He laughs and throws the bud of the cigarette down. "Sure, babe. I'll come."

I can feel my eyes light up. "Really?"

"For you? Why not?"

It's a reflex. I didn't make my body move. I didn't make myself move and my hands grab his face and my lips act and kiss him. But this happened. I created the move and I kissed him. It was more than a kiss. It was that sundae running through my whole body. It was passionate and real and with this boy whom I've only dreamed about.

It made me feel good.

"_Damn," _he says as he pulls away and touches his lips the same way I did. Then, once he has collected himself and what happened as registered, he grabs me, kissing me all over again.

This must be what it feels like to be a piece of meat and be wanted by someone hungry. This is all I have to do - flirt. This is easy. I'm delicious.

* * *

"What did you do to your face?" he asks slowly. He's observing me and giving me an evil glare as if I was possessed with a demon - the devil himself just walked through his living room.

I turn my back to him and lick the edge of my cake. "It's make-up, Dad."

"Do you actually think that looks good?" he asks and his eyebrows are raised, which means I'm the stupidest piece of shit to ever walk the earth. His footsteps grow louder the closer he gets.

I clinch the edge of the counter with my nails digging into it and I wonder where my mother is. She's always around yet she's never around when this starts. "I don't know."

His hands are on my shoulders now. He pinches them tightly. "You look like a slut."

"Dad-"

"Well you do. Your face is all painted up like a piece of white trash. Am I just supposed to pretend I don't see it? Who's it for, Sylvia? Is there something I should know? Who all is coming to this party?"

I jerk him off of me and walk away. Chrissy always told me to do it. Just keep walking. Walk away. Walk in a circle if you have to. It's harder to catch you that way.

"Did you hear me?"

"Yes."

"Do you have anything to say?"

I have a lot to say. It's what I may say that'll get me in trouble. Oh I have so many things I want to say to him. "No."

He pats me on the top of the head. "Good. Your guests should be coming soon. Wipe that shit off your face and look presentable. This is a birthday party, not a date."

Twenty minutes later, people come. I sit on my bed with a wet cloth in my hand. It's turned cold from the waiting. I'm supposed to be washing off my face and getting a better dress on that really fits but instead, I just sit.

I wonder if Dally is here yet. He'll be late. I can't wait until he walks in and asks for me. Hopefully he'll ask my dad and then he'll wonder why he is here and what he wants with me. He'll worry and storm up to my room in full sweat. He'll start asking questions and I'll make him squirm and tell him whatever I want.

I pick at my pantyhose. They are my mothers. As I pick, holes appear. They start out small but as I dig and pick, they grow. Dally likes my legs but my parents make me cover them. No skirts or dresses above the knee. Nothing that will make me look like those girls on TV who are on the streets begging for money and sex and drugs.

They don't know me though. They didn't know Chrissy either though they told their friends that she told them everything. They'd brag on her because she was the smart one even though she had sex more than they ever did. She was the pretty one that everyone always talked about. My parents told their friends about the volunteer work she did and what wonderful things teachers would say about her.

The girl that lived down the hall, did make good grades, she did volunteer every weekend at the soup kitchen. She is also the same girl who slept with her boyfriend, did drugs, and cut school. My parents knew this. They tried to stop it and they'd cry about how this was not the girl they raised and she was not like this.

She was broken. She broke. They broke her.

"Here you are." Lucy slips in and eases the door shut behind her.

She's wearing a pink dress that actually comes to her knees and covers her shoulders. Every time she wears outfits like this, you can guess that her mother has gotten up off the couch, showered, and put herself together long enough to forget about her husband's affairs and start paying attention to her daughter that passes through her radar when she's too drunk from the sixth glass of wine to notice where she goes at night.

She sits beside me and bounces the bed up and down. "I don't blame you for hiding out up here. God, it's so lame in there. It's mainly parents bragging on their bratty kids and cheap punch and stale chips."

"Do you have alcohol with you?"

"No. Ma's on one of her kicks again where she wants to better her life. She got rid of everything in the house. Tim's coming though. He'll have some. Though I'm sure your dad won't let him in."

I get up and shimmy my skirt up so it's shorter than before. "Let's leave then."

"What? You can't leave your own party. I think people are going to notice you're gone."

I shrug and search for the spare money I've saved up. I stuff the few dollars into my bra and shake my hair a little. "Do you have that weed still?"

She raises her eyebrows but doesn't hide her sneaky grin. "Got a lighter?"

* * *

"Sylvia!"

He thinks he can control me. He plays this game and acts like supper dad because there are people here that are watching. He can't hide his face from its dark red color. He knows everyone in this room can see me and he can't cover that up. He can't reach out and hit and he can't cuss and yell.

He's a good Christian man - I'm the devil.

I cover my mouth as I giggle. "Hi, Daddy."

Mom is slipping away. She doesn't think anyone can tell her punch is tainted with Whiskey and that she's had three cups now. She doesn't come out in the open to yell and deal with the situation because she doesn't want to be here either.

Dad's mouth his wide open. He doesn't know what to say and as he opens his mouth, the door busts open and his worst nightmare walks in.

"Hey baby." Once he puts his arm around me, Dad knows what's going on and who he is. Everyone in this room does, especially my nerdy classmates with pimples and frizzed hair. They act like it's so scandalous and that I should be ashamed though every single one of them is wet and their underwear drenched.

They want to be me.

I hold my head a little higher. "Daddy, this is Dally._ My_ Dally."

"You're high," he growls. "Get upstairs!"

Dally squeezes me and I let out a giggle that feels bubbly. "Why don't we get out of here?" And he leads me to the door where Tim stands with Lucy and they hold it open for me like I'm their queen.

Everyone can see me. Yes, Dally is walking me to the door. Yes, Daddy, you see me?

"Don't you dare go out that door young lady!"

I laugh. "How are you going to stop me?"

And I leave.

I've found myself. On the first day of school the teachers always ask you to tell them about yourself. No one knows who they are but I've found who I am. I've found who Sylvia is. This is me - a rebel, a villain, a lover. I'm my sister only better.

I am in love...and nothing will ever be the same again.

* * *

**A/N: **I'm sorry for the delay in updates. The next chapters are flowing better for me and should be up quicker.

Thank you for reading and please leave a review!


	3. Pure Spirit

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the _Outsiders_.

* * *

The skinny blonde strands fall down to the counter top. They gather up in the sink with each cut. The top of my hair frizzes and some loose pieces collect on the sticky bottle of bleach. With each end I cut, the more I want to snip. It becomes an issue to where I can't stop my hand I can't stop grinning at myself in the mirror.

Once I'm done, I look at myself in the glass. The long dark blonde hair that came down to my waist is gone. In its place is bleach blonde hair like all those models in my magazine. It comes to my shoulders and my new bangs touch my eyes.

The sink is covered with hair. My mother's precious polished marble sink is drenched with bleach. I can hear her walk back and forth outside the door and I can hear her wonder what it is I could be doing and what was in that bag I took in with me.

I run my hands through my new lovely hair and squeal.

Dally will love it.

He'll adore it.

He'll adore me.

It's the Christmas eve and there's a fire going in the fireplace. Mom is slaving away at the stove and complaining about how I'm not doing anything to help her because I'm in my room and she hasn't seen me for days.

She's begging for help yet she doesn't dare ask her useless husband to get off his ass and lift a finger. Oh no. He's too busy watching football and finishing the New York Times crossword so he can lay it out on the coffee table so all his country inbreed brothers and sister will all see it and admire him.

It's five. I'm supposed to go see Dally tomorrow. There is no Christmas for me tomorrow. That is my punishment (along with some other things) for making a "fool" of myself at the party. Of course they'll end up giving me underwear and socks and cheap charm bracelets and I'll have to sit and hand out gifts like Santa and act like I enjoy Christmas.

Chrissy hasn't called yet. Maybe that's why I hate this Christmas. It's the first one she won't be around for and my parents have now scared her away from phone calls. She hasn't spoken to me since September. I called her apartment but the line was always busy and then a rough guy answered and told me never to call again.

No one mentions her. It's as if her name is banned in this house from now on. Not even Mom will bring up how she wonders what she's doing right now. She's forgotten.

I turn the page in my magazine and jingle my foot up and down. My room is filled with the sounds of Elvis' Christmas album.

My room is my cell. After I escaped the dreaded party, this is where I was thrown. My father hasn't talked to me since then. It's odd. He always has the first word and the last. I like it this way though. No noise from him is good noise.

Mom has only talked when she has brought me food. She'll ask about school and grades and then leave as quickly as she came. She can't spend too long in here with me. She may catch whatever I have.

Dally finds the whole thing quite amusing. He doesn't have parents - that's what he tells me anyway. He's supposed to be living with his aunt but he moved out a few months back and lives at some guy's house where we go to parties and drink and smoke and make-out and fool around while my parents think I'm fast asleep in my bed.

I always wondered how Chrissy did it. I wondered how she could just leave - why should want to do the things she did. It wasn't until no that I realize what I was missing and what Chrissy had found - life.

"Sylvia!" Mom yells. "Can you come help get out these ornaments?"

I want to shout back a no but I get up anyway. She hasn't seen my surprise yet and I might as well show her before the company comes over and I make another scene.

She drops the box when she sees me. She speaks lowly so my father doesn't turn around. "What did you do to your hair?"

"I like it this way." I pick up the box of old dusty ornaments and go over to the tree.

Most of the ornaments are ones I made in Sunday School and in Preschool. There's one in the shape of a triangle with Popsicle sticks and glitter. In the middle is a picture of me at four with a big smile on my face and glitter on my nose.

This is my job every year to go through and hang the ornaments up while the game is on, the smell of turkey and ham lingering through the room, and "Christmas Wonderland" plays.

It makes me wanna puke.

The idea of my cousins coming over makes me wanna puke. I'm only hanging these up so they can see how beautiful my tree is and how well of a job I did decorating it. It used to me mine and Chrissy's job. She was better at it than me because she could reach up high to the top. It became my job after she grew to hate Christmas and our outside family.

"They're here!"

There are five cousins. Three boys and two girls. The oldest is Mickey and he's seventeen. He's got dark black hair and big blue eyes. I've never heard him speak before, not even when we were kids. He's just kind of there.

"Sylvia! You've grown up so much!"

Then there's Kim. She's Chrissy's age and Mickey's sister. She wears pink...all the time. I've never seen her in an outfit that didn't have pink on it. She has a deep southern accent that she lays on more than needed. She's got curly black hair and flawless skin. She would be beautiful if she didn't have a gap in-between her two front teeth the size of this house.

She hugs me, as she does every year. She's the friendly one - the one that makes me the most sick.

"Another shitty tree this yeah, huh?"

Billy and Bobby are the twins from Hell. They are my age and we grew up together because they used to live right across from us. They used to chop all my doll's hair off and then flush the heads down the toilet They hid the heads under their bed in a shoe box. No one thought this was odd at the time. I'm sure they all just laughed.

"I like your hair."

"Yes! It's so..._short_."

Mary is the youngest. Her mother is my dad's little sister and her and her daughter are never apart. She tells everyone that they are best friends and they even dress alike. Tonight they have on matching Santa sweaters and green skirts and Mary's is too small because she's about fifty pounds over weight. Mary doesn't talk much either. Her mom talks for her.

It's a rebel in the making. I can see it in her eyes. Maybe her mom put so much stock into her because she is the youngest and the only child and her father killed himself when she was two. He hung himself in the basement and no one found him until the smell came and Patty, her mother, called the exterminator.

I kick the box over behind the tree and follow behind everyone as they head into the kitchen. There's a full collection of overalls and tobacco stains to last a life time. All the men do is hack and spit.

They all wonder through this house that they've seen a million times. Patty complements my mother on her glass doll collection and they stand in front of it and talk about dresses and dolls like they like each other.

Everyone gathers in the living room and they talk about jobs and my dad brags about his being the best and my catholic school and how much it's costing him. The others brag about their chickens and cows and it turns into a competition to see who has the most and how much land they own.

I slip into the back and grab a drink of coke with a little Whiskey mixed in. It's so warm against my throat. It's one of the best things I've ever tasted and I'm sure that if I drink enough, I'll either get sick and can stay in my room for the rest of the night, or I can block out this whole experience.

There's a bump that bangs against me as I turn around. It's Uncle Luke's beer belly and it's warm and sticky and wet and it's rubbing up against me as he looks down and grins with his missing teeth.

"Don't you look all grown up?" He spits into his milk jug. "Why don't you give your favorite uncle a hug?"

I don't hug him but he tightly grabs me. I can smell his stains and sweat and farm. He sticks to me and it's hot and my skin crawls and all I want to do is run away and hide forever.

He finally breaks loose and rubs my shoulder. "You're such a pretty youngin'."

I take another sip of my drink and stare at the back of my mom's head. I try to beg her to come safe me but she doesn't come. "Thanks."

"You gonna come up to my farm this summer? Could use some pretty lil' hands. Kim and Mickey ain't much good for nothin'. You on the other hand, you could do us some good. What do ya say?"

I can feel my pulse through my neck. "Maybe."

He bends down and kisses me on top of the head. I want to run and hide and never come back out again. I feel dirty and gross and I want to take a hot shower and never come out until I drown or burn.

"You're such a pretty girl."

I turn on my heel and go back into the living room. I sit with my hands in my lap and I cry.

* * *

My mother has knocked on my door ten times. She wants to know what's wrong and why I have to act this way. She tells me how embarrassed and mad my father is but I tune her out by turning my music up and drowning my thoughts by reading letters Chrissy has written me and the ones Dally gave me.

_Dear Syl,_

_I miss you SO much. I can't wait until you come to visit. The city is huge! I love New York, Syl and I know you will too. I'm going to get you out here before you turn eighteen. Just keep your head high. Don't worry, I'll come back for you._

_Love always,_

_Chrissy._

I can hear the dishes in the sink being cleaned. Mom has given up all hope of me opening my door and talking to me. She acts like she wants me to open up to her. Like she wants me to tell her that I've drank and done drugs and have a boyfriend with a record and that I like this new life I'm starting.

She doesn't want to hear that though. She thinks she does, but she doesn't. She doesn't want to hear about how trapped I feel and about how I just want to escape from my room and go smoke pot but Lucy is out of town for the holidays.

I turn to my side and close my eyes. I count down the hours until I can run.

"Oh my God!"

I sit up on my bed. The yellow cat clock on my wall reads two am.

The cries continue on as I drag my sock covered feet down the hallway. I rub my sleepy eyes and think about turning back and just hiding under the covers but the lord's name is being used and that rarely happens.

I enter the living room and my father is holding my sobbing mother. I've never seen my parents kiss. They don't believe in showing affection but he's cradling her like a baby and he's rocking her back and forth and his eyes are wet too.

"Sylvia, baby," my mother weeps as she spots me. "Oh honey."

"What's going on?"

She gets up. Her night gown drags on the floor as she walks to me. Her eyes are red and she can't seem to catch her breath. She clenches a tissue in her little hand. "Come here, baby."

I slide my feet back a little. "What happened?"

My father hangs his head and covers his face with his hands. He doesn't get up or look at me.

Mom doesn't move but her chest is heaving. "Baby I'm so sorry."

I make a fist with my hands. My parents don't show emotion. Never. This is too weird to be normal. My heart begins to race and I become angry. "No. Tell me what's going on. Tell me now!"

"There was...an accident " She clears her throat and goes on, "Your sister, Chrissy...The cops got a call this morning. They found her in a house. She was completely blue. They...oh God... they found needles in her. All kinds of needles and drugs. That boy...he was there too. They...Sylvia...she passed."

I stand, frozen. I look from my mom to my dad. Dad's face is cold and hard like he's angry. My mother's eyes are sadder and her face is stained with runny make-up and tears. "Passed?"

She nods and cries harder. "Baby I am so sorry. She's gone."

And at that moment, a tare happened. The ball was dropped, the world set on fire. I stopped breathing. I died and then came back. There was a sink in the floor and we all fell down.

I look around the room. I turn in a circle, looking at things in the room. I see my baby picture on the mantel. I see Chrissy beside me. There's a church photo of all of us next to that one. We are little girls and we are holding each other and we are smiling and we are happy. We are happy in each picture. We are young and innocent and happy.

"Honey..."

"No!" I shout. I feel my legs backing away from the people in front of me. They're strangers. They're a pigment of my imagination and I'm not here and this is not real. "Don't say that."

My mom tries to reach out to me. I can smell her breath and know how much alcohol she has consumed in the past few minutes. She can't grab me because she's seeing double and her tears are clouding her vision.

I push away from her. I can feel my breath getting away from me and I'm struggling. "Don't touch me! Stop lying to me!"

"It's true!" My father's voice rings in my ears. "We got the call! She died, Sylvia! She's dead! She doped herself up with drugs and she died in some whore house! She's gone!"

I cover my ears. I can't hear this. "Stop it! Stop saying that! She's not dead! She can't die! I-I just got a letter from her not too long ago! I spoke to her! She was fine!"

"Sylvia, honey!"

I can't go anywhere else. I keep trying to back away but there's something behind me and I have no where else to go. "You never loved her! You just wish she was dead! Stop lying to me! Stop saying she's dead!"

My father is in my face now. He grabs me by the arms and I want anything but to be here. I can't stand him touching me and I squirm and kick against him but he is too strong for me.

He shakes me and forces me to look at his face. "She_ is_ dead! Do you hear me? She killed herself! Get a hold of yourself, damnit! She's _dead_! She's dead and she's never coming back!"

He lets go of me and I cry. I stand in a little ball and I hold myself because no one else will and I cry.

"It's not like we all didn't see it coming." He gets out a cigar from his box and lights it. "We knew this would happen."

"Charlie!"

"It's true!" he screams. "You knew it's true just like I do! Stop crying and blaming yourself. She did this to herself. We saw her spinning out of control. She was too suborn for help so she ran off and she killed herself."

My chest heaves. "I hate you."

His head slowly turns back around. "Excuse me?"

"You did this to her," I say calmly. "_You_ killed her."

He starers at me, confused. He doesn't blink and my mother doesn't either. They both just kinda look at me as if I didn't say anything or that I'll take it back. It's registering in their small brains at the moment.

"How dare you!" He comes charging at me.

"Charlie!"

He slams his hands against the wall by my face. "You ungrateful little slut!"

"You killed her! You know you did! You drove her to leave! You drove her to do all those things and then you make up this lie to me so I won't really know what happened to her! You stupid bastard! What happened to her? Tell me!"

His eyes glow red like a monsters. "No one is lying."

I sob. "You did this to her."

It's quiet and it's just me and him. "It should of been you."

"Charlie!"

And the clock finally says it's time for me to run.

* * *

The cold air makes my throat feel on fire as I run. My legs hurt and my stomach begs me to stop but I can't. My tears fly away the faster I go. I can't stop until I get to the one place that I feel safe.

"What the hell?"

I push the door shut behind me. I start kissing him so he doesn't say anything else. I distract him with my body - my lips. I strip down and push him on the bed. I force his clothes off as I cry and sob.

"What are you doing? Are you fucking crying?"

I chock on a sob. "Fuck me. Fuck me right here, right now."

He hesitates. He just looks at me. Since when does any man turn down the offer of sex? Since when does Dallas Winston prefer talking over having sex? He still just looks at me though and he watches me sit on him and cry.

Then he reaches up and touches a tear. His other hand grabs my breast and he flips me over on the bed to my back.

He takes my skirt off. He takes his jeans off and holds me down on the bed so I just lay there and watch him and I stop crying. I'm so hungry and I want to be full - full by him.

"Be easy," I whisper as his body lays on me.

I hear a smirk, and he enters me.

I gasp and I get cold all over. I grab the sheets and my back arches. It's pressure and it's pain. I open my mouth wide like a scream but I don't make a noise. It hurts - it feels like heaven.

A small tear runs down my cheek, hitting the pillow.

This is the first time I see her. It's not as clear but I can see her curves and her thick curls. I blink a couple of times and I see that it's really her. She's by the door to the bathroom.

She smiles - not like the smiles in our pictures but a different, relief smile. She tilts her head back a little a giggles. "Hi there, baby."

I lift my head up to see her better. She put her hand up to her mouth and she blows a kiss and she's gone.

The hot water pelts my skin. It burns holes into my back and I bite my lip and endure it. I'm sore. I rub my upper thighs and I see bruises starting to form. I go back under the water and hold back a scream.

I wrap myself with a towel and my skin rests as cool air hits it. My hand shakes as it tries to grab the door knob.

He looks lost as he looks at the white sheets. I ask him what's wrong and he shrugs and lights a cigarette. "Correct me if I'm wrong. Ain't virgins supposed to bleed?"

* * *

**A/N: **PW should be updated tomorrow.

Thank you all so very much for reading. Please leave a review!


	4. Ominous Wind

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the _Outsiders_.

* * *

It's like I'm possessed by something. There's this demon inside of me and it's hungry and once it gets a taste of what it hungers for, it takes over and I can't stop it. A part of me disappears - the part of me that, deep down, wants to be a good girl but there's nothing left. This demon is on a rampage, and I let it...

Because I like it.

I am on the ground. I'm looking up at Dally's beautiful blue eyes and he's not laughing. He's looking at me like I've done something wrong, like I'm not Sylvia, the pretty girl with nice legs. Suddenly none of this is funny and I feel like crying.

"What did you do to her?" He breathes down Lucy's neck. He looks like he's going to hurt her.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"What the fuck did you do to her?" He's shaking her, making her head bobble back and forth. She doesn't know what she's doing. She doesn't even know what he's doing.

Chrissy did this all the time. I saw them in her room and I saw her boyfriend feed them to her in my backyard. Lucy bought them from the kid that hangs out behind our school - the devil worshiper that spits at us when we go outside.

February is almost over. Valentine's Day passed and Dally and I spend the whole day together. He took me on this drive through the country. I'd never been to the country. He took me to a horse pasture and we fed the horses and then we went to this burger place he knew. Then we got drunk and spent the night together. Just us.

Okay, the first part didn't happen. Dally doesn't take me anywhere. We did eat burgers though.

I'm still on the ground when I hear Dally start talking to Tim. Tim came with Dally and he's just as mad at Lucy. Tim hasn't been around too much. Lucy says he's with his gang all the time. Lucy hates his gang. They've been fighting a lot.

"Shut the fuck up!" It's Tim who's screaming. He's in Lucy's face and she's practically spinning in a circle. She's fuming mad. I can see the smoke coming out. "I said shut up!"

He puts his hands on her. He shakes her like Dally did and her head just bobbles. "I fucking hate you! You only care about your stupid gang! When was the last time we fucked? What? You've been fucking all them? Oh I bet you have."

He tightens his grip on her and squeezes her arms so hard that I can see blue forming around his fingers.

Dally comes over to me. He yanks me up off the ground and pulls me along. "I'm not leaving."

"Get in the fucking car!" He slams the door shut and cranks the engine. The lights blind me and I stumble for a second.

I block my eyes and shout over the engine. "You can't tell me what to do!"

"Get in the fucking car or I'll run you over!"

"No!" I stomp my heel into the wet concrete. I cross my arms over my chest and try to stand straight but I can feel my self wobbling back and forth. I can see Dally in the car rolling his eyes and scowling. He's reeving the engine, threatening.

Lucy and Tim are still behind me. I can hear things bang but I don't turn around. I can hear her throw everything she can at him and he push and shove her and scream and yell and call her things I've never heard of.

I trip over myself as I walk towards them. I lean against the brick wall and try to light a cigarette with my shaking cold hands. Dally is still in his car and the smoke from it is giving me a sick headache. Lucy's screams aren't helping either.

"Tim, is that you?" A short dark haired girl with bouncy curls gets in the cross fire of the two while Tim holds Lucy down long enough not to throw anything at her. "What the fuck is going on?"

Tim picks Lucy up off the ground and pins her against him. "Watch the fucking language, Angela."

I pinch my fingers so the circulation stays and I can feel them. This cigarette isn't warming me up as much as I thought. Dally has a jacket. He'd run me over before he'd let me wear it right now though. I'm not going back over there for a while.

The girl starts to laugh at the two as they wrestle against each other. "She's still around?"

"I-I'm his girlfriend!" Lucy's make-up is all over her face. Her mascara has ran down to her chin. She's crying but she doesn't know it. She's missing a shoe and her bare legs are blue. "Get out of here you stupid bitch."

Tim tugs on her again. He gets in her ear and growls. "That's my sister. Don't talk to her like that."

"Can I get a ride home?" Angela asks, tapping her shoe impatiently. "Is that Dallas?"

I can tell by the way she looks over at the car that she's interested. She's looking for more than a ride home. She has those wide eyes and that smirky scowl. She pushes her lips together as she peers over at him.

I step forward. "Yeah it is. Back off Angela."

"You're that catholic school girl, aren't you?" she asks with a laugh. "The one Dallas has been dragging around? Oh that's rich! If I knew it was you from the get go I'd...well, I'd of made my move on him sooner."

Tim's too busy with Lucy to notice what just came out of his little sister's mouth. He's really started to stop caring about what she says or does. When we younger, he had his thumb on her at all times. We went to the same school and church until Angela got expelled for having sex with Bobbie Brooks in the second floor bathroom.

Angela Shepard and I have been classmates for years. She poured cleaning solution in my milk in first grade. Since then we've had a mutual hatred for each other that has no room for change.

"Are you high?"

"What's it to you?"

She raises her eyebrows. "Your parents are going to shit themselves." She comes over to me, putting out her cigarette. "C'mon. Let's go while these two kids work out their differences. I'm starving. We'll get Dally to take us to the Dingo."

Lucy has started throwing trash from the can beside her. Tim is smoking and not putting up a fight anymore. Angela is almost to Dally's car. She's walking slow though and she keeps looking back at me. She tells me to come on and then stops to ask if I need help walking. I tell her I don't.

I just stand and cry.

Chrissy's funeral was almost two months ago. I had to wear some smelly itchy dress my mother made me wear. I didn't stay for the after party. My father was so mad but he didn't make a scene because people were watching.

I just stood there, looking at her grave. I pictured myself digging her out and taking her to the holy water to cure her. I just stood there though. I didn't cry. I could feel her though. I could hear her voice and she talked to me.

"Sylvia!" Angela shouts. She's leaning outside the car door. "Come on! You're fucking blue! Get in the car!"

I stare at her. She's so white. She looks like a ghost. I rub my eyes and she still looks that way.

I can feel myself melting as I walk to the warm car. My insides are turning inside and out.

* * *

My food looks like a forging object. The lights in here are too bright and my head is ringing. Everyone around is moving in slow motion and the walls are melting around me. I feel like I'm in a small box and can't get out.

"Are you gonna eat that?" Angela points to my fries. I push them towards her and she devours them.

I haven't eaten a full meal in a month. Lucy found some of her brother's pills in his room and we've been taking them. I stay up all night when we take them. I can't eat anything because I'm never hungry.

Dally hasn't talked to me. He's looking at his plate as he eats his food. He's talking to Angela a lot and they're having long conversations without me as if I'm not there at all. Like I'm some foreign person sitting beside them - a stranger.

They start laughing at something and they choke on their food. Dally throws a fry at her and she throws more than one back. Dally calls her a dumb bitch and eats the fries she threw. There's so much connection between them that I want to run and hide in the bathroom and never come out.

"They wearin' off yet?" Angela asks me. She's sitting beside me and jabbing me in my side.

I shake my head. "How are Lucy and Tim going to get home?"

"Who cares."

They continue to laugh and make jokes with each other as time winds down. They got desert and they throw bits of ice cream on each other and they look like they're having the best time in the world and I'm just sitting here, wanting to die.

What makes her so special? Why is he paying so much attention to her? I give him everything he could ever want. I'm always there when he wants sex. He should love me more - he does love me. He told me so. So why isn't he flaunting all over me like he is her. She's just some girl with a loud voice and a cup size.

I drag my feet across the slick floor. I go over and join him on his side of the booth and it feels warmer on this side. I ignore their stares and place my hand on his upper thigh and let it sit there. I inch it up the more he talks to her.

He doesn't take notice. He's still focused on her.

I swing my legs over so I'm completely in his lap. I wrap my arms around his neck and whisper in his ear, "I'm so horny."

He just kinda stares at me like I'm crazy but I know what he's thinking because he's always thinking it. It's why he's so interested in Angela. He thinks he can fuck her. What if he has an easier way to get laid? He'd stop talking alright.

I lick the lobe of his ear and gently bite it. "Let's go in the bathroom and fuck."

He pushes me off a little. "Give me a minute."

He goes back to talking to her like nothing happened. He's never turned me away before. What have I lost that she's gained? She's not interested in him. Is she? Why is the room suddenly spinning and I feel like everyone is looking at me and pointing a laughing? Why do I see all these colors and there she is by the door again.

"I'm going to throw up."

I run up and rush to the bathroom. I push open a stale and don't both shutting it as I lay on the dirty floor.

My head attaches back to my body around the third heave. Everything has stopped spinning and I've come to terms with reality. I'm in a dirty diner, on the bare floor while Dally is probably half way home with that tramp. I can see her inching her skirt up and letting him feel her over before they get home.

"You ok?"

I'm leaned over the sink. I don't look up at her as I breathe and try to stop the constant ringing in my head. "Get out of here, will ya? Go back to flirting with my boyfriend."

She laughs out loud. "Is that what that scene was about back there? Jesus, Syl, give me a break. Dallas Winston? My brother would kill him and me both. Not to mention that he's really not my type at all."

"You're a whore. They're all your type."

It's silent for a long time. Everyone calls her that so I know it doesn't faze her to hear one extra person say it. Yet, she's still standing there, her lips pushed tightly together.

"What?" I ask after a while. "You think I care what you think of me? You're no better than me so stop acting like it. I know what you do. You've lost count yet? Maybe a bun in the oven?"

She has her hands tightly in fists. I've seen Angela punch before. I know she wouldn't think twice about it but she is.

"Get out of here, Angela." I shake my head. "Go crawl back in the garbage where you came from."

She stands still for a few seconds. "I really do feel sorry for you. Really, I pity you. You're so messed up and you don't even see it. You're going down a bad path, Sylvia. A bad, deadly path."

I can't feel my legs anymore. The sink is the only thing holding me up. All I want to do is go home but I don't want to face my parents or Dally who's outside with Angela. I wish I had some car that just magically went where ever you wanted. I wouldn't have to rely on anyone. I could come and go without ever speaking to my parents.

"Pick yourself up Sylvia."

I look in the mirror. It's her. "Chrissy?"

She laughs. Oh her laugh. "Come on now. You know pretty girls don't die. Get back out there Syl. Go face them. Dally loves you. He's yours. Don't let her take him from you."

It's the drugs. That's what they all say. But I can see her. I can see every detail of her. I can even smell her. That berry lotion she always wore. "Chrissy, I-"

"Go," she says softly. "You're gonna take over the world, Sylvia...and I'll be right here to help."

* * *

"Ms. Mason!" Sister Helen is screaming again. My head is heavy and I can't lift it up to pay attention to her. She keeps shouting and shaking me and I can hear Lucy laugh beside me.

I haven't slept in three days. There's someone outside my bed room window who watches me while I lay there. He never leaves. He has an evil face. It's mixed with every childhood fear - clowns, snakes, spiders. He waits by my window until the lights come out and then he leaves. No one believes me that he's there.

"Ms. Mason!"

Lucy keeps feeding me drugs. I feed myself them when I'm alone. They make the monsters and demons go away. Without them I constantly feel like I'm falling off a roof top but I never hit the bottom. I just keep floating, having that fear that at any second I may die and that the whole world around me is crashing in.

There is this girl that goes to school here - Ruth. She's really poor but she makes extremely good grades. She's every teacher's pet but none of them know what she does after hours for money.

The boys flick hot pennies at her as she walks through the halls. They heat them up used their lighters and they pelt her skin.

Boys look at her. They see her large chest, her slim legs, and they grow hungry. Dally's always hungry and I keep feeding him but I feel like he looks for someone else all the time to fill his needs. He tells me it's not true and that he's never been with anyone while he's been with me.

I want to believe him, but when I see Ruth walk by and see his lips get a little moist, it's hard not to feel jealousy.

The nuns teach us that jealousy is one of the worst sins. It's a poison in everyone's body and when you trigger it, it's deadly.

Lucy cornered her after school by the bus lot. She pushed her into a corner and then that's where I came in.

I don't even remember what happened. It was like I was a different person. A few hours before, I had no intentions of hurting anyone and I was as happy as I've ever been. Then someone new came inside of me and I saw red as she walked by. I couldn't control myself. I had no control over my body. It just happened.

This is why I sit here, facing my parents and the headmaster.

No one is happy. My father is biting his nails and tapping his foot. The big blue vein in his hand is bulging.

"You can see why she can't stay here."

"Please reconsider," my mother begs. "She hasn't been herself since we lost her sister. It's almost summer. Please just let her carry out the year. I'm sure she can prove that she can behave."

I got into trouble last week because my skirt was too short. My mom had to come and pick me up and I had to listen to Sister Helen lecture me on how proper ladies were supposed to dress. My father wasn't happy. He hasn't spoken to me in over a month and even as I rebel, he remains quiet.

"What do you have to say for yourself, Sylvia?"

Oh, a question for me? You mean I can actually speak for myself? That never happens. She doesn't want to hear what I really have to say, but I say it anyway, "She deserved it."

* * *

Tim dropped out right after Christmas. He said it had something to do with family problems but he was failing every class and he was constantly getting paddled and sent home. His parents didn't fuss when they found out the news. I'm not sure if he even has parents even more. He can do what he wants.

I don't see what the big deal about school is. Woman, like me, don't get jobs after leaving that school. You're not supposed to unless you want to become a nun or a teacher. It's our place to stay home and raise the children so why should I learn math or science or anything else? Why can't life teach me all I need to know?

"I can't believe this..."

He's been saying it over and over again. My father isn't stupid. He sees me jumping out my window at night and he hears me stumble back inside on whatever Lucy brought that night. He knows what's going on. He shouldn't be surprised.

Chrissy disappears when he gets this way. She's still scared of him, even after death. She's been coming around more and more. She says it's because I'm going through changes. I can see her without the drugs now. Maybe it's a sign of how far off the deep end I've gone. But it must be right. She tells me it is.

Once we get home, I'm confronted. "This is not you."

"You don't know who I am, Daddy," I say. "Can't you tell? I'm not a little girl anymore."

He gets out a drink. He's started that. "I'm not dealing with this."

"Fine," I say softly. "I don't care. See Daddy, you can't control me anymore. Your punishments don't faze me and so you do nothing because you have no other tricks. You have figured out that you can hit me all day long and I'll still leave at night. I'll still climb out my window and sleep with my boyfriend and do drugs and drink and run around town."

He's acting like he's not listening. He's turned on the TV and he's not even looking at me.

I speak louder, "But you see, this was me all along. It's me! You can't change who I am, can you? I'm glad I'm out of that pig infested school. Oh no, but now you can't brag about it to your inbreed siblings."

"Sylvia, stop it," my mother warns.

I get right in his ear. "You wanna know what I did to that girl? I broke her nose. I had Lucy hold her while I tore her face to shreds. Her beautiful face is gone. You know, I learned how to hit from you, Daddy."

My mother is right behind me. She's trying to pull me back.

"I learned a lot of things from you and your family. How to cheat, how to lie, how to rape-"

There's a big red wine stain on the carpet. The drink went up in the air and crashed down as his fist crashed into my jaw. They happened at the same exact moment in time. I've hit a nerve and it just hit me back.

"How dare you! Don't talk about this family that way! Don't spread those lies."

They aren't lies though.

But, what would he know?

I'm tired of yelling. My throat is sore so to save me the trouble, I leave. My work is done. I got him to speak. So I reside to the one place where I can get exactly what I want.


	5. Beyond Dead

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the _Outsiders._

**A/N: **Sorry about the delay in updates. I'm trying to work some things out and it's been a hard week.

* * *

It's four in the morning and all I want to do is sleep but there's something pulling and pushing inside of me that makes me stay awake. I don't test it or try to stop it. I've spoiled it to a point that now it thinks it runs my body. I let it because, at this point, I don't give a shit.

It's getting cold out again. This summer was a bust. Dally was running in and out of jail and I had to spend most of the summer with my relatives while my parents went on _trips_. I wasn't invited because they don't know how to deal with me now. They don't talk to me and they don't want me to talk to them. They ignore me and they pretend like I'm not theirs.

Lucy is on the park bench closest to the swings. She was on them for a few hours before she barfed and had to take some time out. She's wearing an orange patch-work jacket over a new leather coat her mother bought her last week. She cuddles up and holds herself with her tiny little arms.

I told her it's better out here than in there and she believes me. She has a more screwed up home life than I do but her parents shovel out toys every week to try and please her and keep her home and to make up for dinners or school functions they've missed.

Lucy is still enrolled at Saint Mary's but rarely ever goes. The only reason they don't kick her out is because her parents write a big check at the end of every month that pays for the heat and electric bills.

"Get up," a raspy voice tells me. They kick the bench I'm sitting on and the shake me. "I said get up, kid. You can't sleep here."

I open my eyes and look at Lucy across the park on the other bench. There's a heavy set cop standing over her. He starts pulling on her jacket and shouting.

"Don't touch her!" I yell.

"Look at her!" the cop closest to me yells at the other one. "She can't even lift her head up. Just put her in the car."

I sit on the bench and look across the swings at Lucy. Her arm is draped over the side of the bench and her drool wets the ground and the wood. She doesn't even hear or see the man shaking her.

"She's just tired," I explain.

The cop snorts and rolls his eyes. "Kid, we see this all the time. We know she ain't tired."

"What are you going to do with her?"

"She'll spend a night in jail. It depends. She may go to the hospital. She may be convicted."

The cop near Lucy pulls her upright and I get up and run over to them. My cop follows suite and starts screaming at me but I can't hear him. I only hear the wind as it hits my face and ears and all I'm worried about is getting to Lucy and saving her.

I get in-between her and the cop and he pulls back and stares at me.

"Don't hurt her!"

"Kid, get out of here." My cop pulls on my jacket, trying to tug me away. "I can smell the alcohol and on your breath and you must think I'm stupid to think you didn't take something too. So unless you want to take a trip with her, get lost."

Get lost. I'm already lost. Not like a dog that no one can find. I'm more like a butterfly who can't find its home. I keep flying through trees and bushes, just hoping to find where I belong before my time is up.

Lucy's gone now. One of the cop's names is Greg. He offered to give me a ride home. The other cop was yelling by the car, telling him to forget about me. I told him I could manage and watched as they drove away with Lucy asleep in the backseat.

The roads are slick. My feet slide like I'm on ice skates and I glide down the sidewalk until I get to where I'm going.

My face is frozen by the time I get to the door. I can't feel my hands and I'm dying for a cigarette.

"What?"

"Lucy got arrested."

He rubs his face. "Good."

"You gonna let me in asshole, or I'm gonna have to freeze to death?"

His house smells like rotten pizza. His mom was arrested a month ago for getting in a bar fight. I guess the three of them have been on their own since then. By the condition of the house, I'd say I'm right.

"What are you on?"

"They said she might be convicted. You got some money?"

He scrunches his face together and frowns. "For what?"

"To get her out."

He turns his head and actually laughs. It's not a snort or a smirk. It's a full blown laugh like I've just told him the funniest joke in history. He keeps laughing and holding his side and the room spins around him.

I balance myself on the wall. "S'you gonna give it to me or not?"

"How much did you take?" he asks as he puts his hands on my shoulders and looks into my eyes. "Shit. Dallas is gonna kick your ass when he finds out. Who'd you buy it from? Buck?"

I slap his hands off and let my shoulder hit the wall. "Fuck Dally. You think I care?"

"Then why'd you come to me instead of him?"

My mouth tastes like cherries. When I was little, I used to eat a whole jar of cherries in one sitting. Chrissy used to challenge me to see how fast I could eat them. She'd give me a dollar if I beat my old time. I'd end up throwing up red the rest of the night but it was still worth it to savor each soaking red fruit.

"What is she doing here?"

"Fuck you, Angela."

She's so beautiful. Everyone used to think so through school. Even when we were kids, all the boys wanted to play with her, even when she beat most of them up. She was the first one in our grade to lose her virginity and no one talked to her for a month but she didn't care. She still smiled with confidence as she walked down the halls. She always thought she was better than us, even when she got kicked out. Nothing could knock her down, no matter how hard any of us tried.

She's in front of me now, pointing and poking me. "What'd she take?"

"Didn't I tell you to go to bed?"

"Maybe. How is she not on the ground right now?" Her finger almost touches my eye. "Look at her."

I reach out and try to swat her away but I only hit air. "Get away from me, whore!"

She snickers as she looks from her brother to me. Curly comes into the room next and picks at me just like Angela did. He's eating a ham sandwich and I realize how hungry I really am and all I want to do is eat that sandwich and him.

When did Curly Shepard become such a _man_?

"Give me my money," I tell Tim.

Tim shakes his head as the other two drones giggle and point again. "I ain't givin' you shit. That girl can rot."

I close my eyes. The spinning of the room is making me want to throw-up and I know they'll make me leave if I make a stain on their carpet. "She's your girlfriend!"

"_Was_," he corrects. "We broke up months ago when she started fucking her teacher and one of my boys."

I knew this. I was there when it happened. I was there when Lucy told me about Mr. Coleman. She told me the day they had sex on his desk during lunch and how they locked the door and he put her on top of the desk and she told me about how hot it was and how she went back every day that week.

She needed his help on a test. That's how it all started. Her parents made her go to him every day after school to get help in math. She told me that she'd never met anyone so caring and nice before. She said he really cared about her and that he was going to leave his wife for her and they were going to leave soon.

This was all while she was with Tim.

"You're still friends with that whore?" It's Angela who asks. "She's screwed up in the head big time. Worse than you."

"You're the whore."

"You want to fight me, Sylvia?"

"Hit me."

"You're high as shit. You won't even feel it."

"You're scared."

"I should hit you. I should hit you so hard it'll break your face. It wouldn't even be worth it though."

The wall is warm against my face. I can feel my drool run down my chin but I can't lift my arm up to wipe it off. I can hear Curly and Angela laugh and if I opened my eyes, I'm sure I'd see them pointing at me again.

"Shut up," Tim warns them with a deep voice. He grabs my hand hard and suddenly I'm moving. "Come on."

* * *

The bed isn't hard. It sinks down and the springs jab into my sides and make me jump throughout the night. Once I find a good position, it feels like I've been gone for days. Maybe I have. No one would bother to wake me up. Maybe that's what happened. It wouldn't be the first time someone's fallen asleep and never woke up.

"You look like shit."

I sit up and rub the top of my head. I run my fingers through the knots of hair and I lick my dry lips. "You ain't no Prince Charming either, dick. What happened?"

"Tim brought you here."

"Where's Lucy?"

"How the hell should I know?"

I force a yawn. The air tastes like shampoo and liquor. "Tim didn't go get her?"

He shrugs and goes back into the bathroom. He's not wearing a shirt and a pair of blue jeans. He runs his fingers through his hair and swoops it back. He keeps doing this until he gets it perfect.

"I should kick your ass."

"Go ahead, big boy."

A lot of people are scared of Dally. I too used to quiver when he got that angry look. I don't see why people run from him now. He only carries out a few threats and he's never killed anyone like a lot of people we know.

My stomach growls. I can feel it eating itself. I sit and wonder when the last time I ate was.

"If I wanted a whore, I'd get Shepard." He throws a wet cloth on the bed for me. "Wash that shit off your face."

I frown, pressing my lips together and savoring the after tastes in my mouth. "You're calling me a whore?"

"If the shoe fits."

"You're the only person I've slept with, asshole."

He smirks, taking back the cloth and throwing it so it lands on my face. "Yeah, I'm sure."

I ring out the water and let it drip onto my legs. It's not warm or cold but it burns fire into me. "You're saying you've thought about getting with Shepard? _That_ ignorant, white trash, broad?"

He returns to his spot in front of the sink. He starts picking at his face. "Better than you."

I get up off the bed. I swing my legs so they dangle for a second before they hit the hard wood floor. They dance across the slick floor until they hit the titles. I cross my arms and stand behind him and wait.

"Take that back," I demand.

He sneers, shaking his head. "What are you gonna do about it?"

"Take it back right now!"

"No."

I ball my hands up. I can see him through the mirror and he's not paying any attention to me. He's primping for something.

There are a lot of things Chrissy has taught me: how to ride a bike, how to do back flips in the pool, and how to keep a man happy. Men have a wondering eye. It's their nature. There are clear signs. If they start taking more pride in their appearance, or going weird places, or coming home late - it means someone else is giving them what they want.

"Is that where you've been?" I ask. "With Angela?"

He rolls his eyes. He snorts under his breath as he goes back into the living room. "You're crazy."

"Don't call me that." I follow after him. "Who is she then?"

"Leave me alone, you dumb broad."

"Tell me now!"

He turns on his heel and faces me. He wears a smirk as he looks down at me. He winks cockily. "You got yours. I got mine."

"I don't have anyone," I clarify. "Who is she? Tell me now. I'll end her right now. Tell me, damnit!"

He rests on the bed. He flips the TV on and props his head up and watches it. He gets a crumbled up bag of chips off the floor and starts to eat. When I stand in front of the screen, he moves me and then goes back. He pays me no mind.

"Dick," I hiss. "Who would want _you_ anyway?"

"You do," he comes back. "Move your fat ass."

I wait a few minutes before I actually move. You can't fight with a brick wall long before it doesn't become fun anymore.

Inside the bathroom, I run a bath. I leave the door wide open and slowly remove all my clothes. I let them slowly fall off my body and land on the floor in a pile. I step out of my pants and dip one toe into the water and then sit down.

I don't look to see if he's looking because I already know. I slowly lather up with the soap and rinse my hair by dipping back, letting my whole body lie in the soapy warm water.

Once I came back, he's focused on a new show. I'm wrapped in a towel and he doesn't look. "You're a dick."

"You're a bitch."

"My parents are getting a divorce."

They told me a few days ago. It was the first time either of them spoke to me in weeks. They were waiting for me one night when I came home. They both sat in the living room. They didn't even say anything about my red eyes and stained clothes or the smell. My mom just looked at the ground as she drank her liquor and my dad did all the talking.

My mom was sick. That's what Dad said anyway. I wasn't blind. I knew that even before he did. He insisted she get help but she refused. He said this family needed help but no one would go. He was referring to me.

There was a lot of cursing after that and throwing of things and then he grabbed his bags and left.

He said he was done with us. He looked me in the eye and told me it was my fault. All of it.

"Who cares?" Dally says.

"Fuck you."

"I've got tons of bitches to do it for me."

"I hate you!"

"Feeling's mutual."

"I just told you that my family just fell apart and all you can say is who cares?"

"Do you care?"

I don't. "Of course I do!"

He shrugs. "Take your feelings to someone who cares about your daddy issues."

"I'm sure Tim'll care."

"Go for it."

I take a deep breath and look around the room. With some paint, it wouldn't be so bad. It'd be kind cozy actually. New sheets and some paintings and chairs and a couch, and this place will just look like a little home. A home for a family.

I sit beside him on the bed. It's not a bad bed once you get used to it. I could live with it. "Could you just hug me?"

"Hug yourself."

"Fuck you."

He looks at me. His lips curl up and he pulls me into him. His lips attack mine hard and he grabs here and there and so do I. Clothes start flying and he flips me over like a pancake. He puts his hand on my stomach and holds me there.

He whispers in my ear, "Don't move."

And I don't. There's pressure and my back wants to go up but I resist as he fully enters. I moan as he goes for it.

**XXXX**

It's night again. There are a lot of people downstairs but we lay here, smoking cigarettes at three in the morning.

"I want you to marry me," I say.

He blows out smoke on my face. "No."

"You will. We're meant to be together. Don't you feel it? We can be a family. Me and you. We can have a child and live here. We can start our lives together and get out of Tulsa once and for all. Don't you want out?"

The smoke burns my eyes. He takes a long drag and smirks. "You're crazy."

"We'll have a life together. Just us."

He gets up out of the bed and starts to put clothes on. He takes his jacket from the rack by the door and opens it. "You're really crazy. Don't show up here with no kid and no ring."

"That sounds like a yes to me."

"Bite me."

A home. It may not be ours but in my heart, it belonged to us. I'd found my place. I wasn't lost anymore. Dally and I. Sylvia Winston. I pronounced it over and over again. The more I did, the better it sounded.


	6. Alive Inside

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the _Outsiders_.

* * *

Lucy's been gone for months now. No one knows what happened or where she ended up. I called her house a few times but her mother said some words and hung up. The snow is sticking to the ground and spring is around the corner. It's mating season and everyone's in heat.

Dally got taken in again. They say he'll be there for three months this time.

My mother found a new friend. His name is Jim and he wears a belt with a cowboy on it and he has a beard and always smells like hay. I've never asked her what he really does because I like the idea of my mom dating a cowboy. That'll really make my dad mad and I think about calling him and telling him. I'd want to see his face though so I don't call.

I'm sitting in Zack Lewis' basement drinking Brandy and coke. It's only ten and everyone here is on crack or smoking pot until their brains fry. I can't see for all the smoke so I sit and drink more and more.

The Rolling Stones are on high and a lot of people are dancing. Well, sort of dancing. The girls are just swaying into the boys while they hold them and their drinks and they just sway up against each other.

It's someone's birthday so there's a half-eaten cake on the table across the room and there is a big banner across the fire place. I missed the candle blowing and the gifts which was good because I didn't bring one.

I wobble as I stand. I go over to the drink station and poor another strong drink. I'm already really drunk but I need to be drunker to get through this night and maybe enjoy myself.

"Lonely girl with the glass of wine." Tim bumps shoulders with me before standing beside me. He pours his own drink and his eyes watch me and wait for my witty response.

But I just stare. I grin and stare at his muscle tone, his face, his manhood, every detail about him. "Hello."

Angela is here tonight. I bet she doesn't know Tim's here though because she's upstairs with some guy Tim had a run-in with last week and it's anything from quiet up there.

The Shepard's have this thing where they just ignore what the other sibling does. All three do it. Tim knows his sister's reputation - he's seen her in action.

When we were fourteen, back when Lucy and Tim were together, we all went over to his house to smoke cigarettes and watch some movie Lucy picked up. The house was supposed to be empty so we all got comfortable in the living room.

That was when the dust from the ceiling started to fall on us.

Then the moaning came.

Tim jumped up really quick and started walking around like he thought something was wrong with the ceiling. That's when there was a scream and Lucy told Tim what was going on. Tim didn't believe her at first because of course he heard the rumors, but this was his baby sister and she could do no wrong in his eyes.

So he went up to her room. He didn't knock or anything and of course the door wasn't locked.

It was like the civil war had just broken out in that little pink bedroom.

Angela tried to cover herself but everyone saw her completely naked as well as he mate. She scrambled off the bed but Tim had already charged for them. Angela had the right mind set to get out of the way.

That's when Tim went for the eyes.

I'd never seen a fight before and it's still the worse one I think I've ever saw. Matt, one of our friends at the time, had to pull Tim for twenty minutes before Curly came home and was able to save the poor kid.

He couldn't walk out of the house when it was all over. Lucy and I had to help him get dressed and make it out to his car.

We never saw him again. I think his name was Larry.

"What are you doing here?" Tim asks a hint of slur in his voice. "Thought you weren't allowed out when Daddy's away."

The liquid in my cup warms my throat and I can't stop drinking it. "I do what I want," I speak softly. "No one controls me. Women's rights and all that good jazz, ya know? You should know that though."

He chuckles a little and turns his eyes over to the zombie dancers. "Wanna dance?"

I agree and we turn into mindless humans, just in a game of lust. He puts his hand on my hips and balances his drink with his other hand. We sway back and forth and bump into each other, neither of us going with the rhythm of the music.

Dally and I have never danced. I like to dance. I did ballet when I was a kid. Chrissy and I had matching pink tutus. I was good in my time. Then my dad thought it was getting too mature and we had to stop.

Tim smells like expensive wine and grease, but the good kind of grease. Hot, sweaty, grease.

I run my hand down his stomach and it's hard. I slip my hand under his shirt and feel it skin to skin. That's when you're truly intimate with someone. When your skin touches each other and you become one. Your souls touch, like a kiss.

I hold my breath as Tim's right hand runs down my side and over my waist and hip. He pulls up my leg, clenching my thigh tightly, and hooks it around his waist so I can feel the fullness and hardness of his erection.

He rocks back and forth against me so I can feel it and I laugh, rubbing his chest, luring him to me and putting him under my charming spell. "Oh Tim Shepard, you naughty boy."

"Shut up." He jerks my body to his. His smooth lips move to my cheek and I arch my neck.

His tongue is the first thing I feel. I taste the expensive Bourbon he's stolen from his mother's cabinet. His kisses are rough and down to the point, much like what I'm used to. I slip my hand under the back of his shirt, softly rubbing the tip of my finger over the small of his back.

"I want you inside of me," I whisper out before his lips stop me from speaking.

There's no discussion of how wrong this is. We're greasers. We have no definition of the word wrong. We're alone in the world - Tim and I. We mean nothing to the other yet that's all we want. It's candy we can't have and that makes it all the more passionate and exciting and my legs shake with the thought of having his dick in me.

He doesn't say another word. He's sweating and hard and there's only one thought going through his brain.

So I let him guide me to the nearest room and I allow him to throw me on the bed and forcefully kiss me until my mouth goes numb and I can't breathe.

His hand, rough and hot, yanks my underwear down my bare legs.

He doesn't come up. He stays down and let's his wild tongue do the warm up.

My knees threaten to go up but he grabs my butt, keeping me arched upward. My hands run through his thick greasy hair, directing his mouth to the right spot.

I watch with a watering mouth as he comes back up for air. He searches his pockets for his wallet and pulls out a condom. He takes the top off with his teeth and quickly puts it on.

I lick my lips as his vibrant stomach is exposed. It looks better than it felt.

"I'm all yours, big boy."

He begins thrusting deep and fast and I can't breathe. The sensation with my flesh stretched tight around him is unbearable but instead of crying out, I laugh. I laugh so hard and so loud. If only Dally could see me. If only my father could see me. I'm not the little girl who can be controlled. No one can tame me.

I am a woman with needs and feels and I'm hot. I'm wanted by many. No one can resist me. I'm Sylvia.

The explosive feelings build up and I tip my head back, shutting my eyes and letting him finish me off.

He grounds into me, slowing a bit and letting this moment last. I wrap my arms around his neck and we come together, crying out in unison of the deed we just committed.

And wasn't it _good_?

* * *

Eventually Tim falls asleep.

He didn't stay up long after it was over. Only long enough to have one cigarette and to piss.

I'm still up and it's five. I'm on my sixth cigarette. I can't sleep. I'm still hungry but it's so intoxicating to watch Tim sleep. To know that that little smile on his boyish face is because of me. I have pleased him.

And it's the best feeling in the world. Sex shouldn't be limited to just one person. It's loving and passionate and hot. Just the thought makes my mouth water and I want more. I'm a vampire in the need of blood.

"Wake up." I run my finger across his flesh. "Tim."

He groans, slurping up the drool dripping from his mouth. The same mouth he used on me. "What time is it?"

"Six."

"Shit."

I stare at him as he dresses. My legs shake again and there's a deep sensation that needs to be filled. "Don't wanna go for a round two? C'mon, Timmy. Show Momma what you got."

I smile and so does he but he shakes his head. "You're one fucked up broad."

"Aren't we all?" I take a long drag of my cigarette. My legs are spread open, ready for someone to come inside.

Tim jumps into his jeans and runs his hand through his hair. "You're a pistol, Syl. I'll give you that much."

"You love me." I press my lips forward. "Are you sure you can't stay?"

"Another time."

And he goes to the door. No hug. No kiss goodbye. "Just remember, when you go to sleep tonight, all alone, it's my pussy you'll be dreaming of, Timothy. You know my number. Don't hesitate to call."

He shakes his head, slamming the door behind him.

* * *

"Don't make me live without you, Dally! Please!"

It's been over a month. Dally just got out yesterday. He's walking down the street, meeting some kids for a movie.

"It was just one time! He took advantage of me! You don't know how drunk he was! I told him it was wrong to do. I did! I told him to stop but he just couldn't control himself. It's not my fault. It's his!"

"Oh I can see it now. Fuck you, you dumb bitch."

I can't keep up with him well in heels. There are people around and they look but they always look. Men, especially. Women just judge. That's their nature.

It's been a long month. Tim showed me things. Good things. My count went up. That's what Lucy always called it. Honestly, I've lost track. It's not all my fault. I've heard things about him too though. He'll never tell you that. I'm always to blame.

You must think I'm a slut. You have good reason to and maybe I am. I've been called it enough, sometimes worse things. Everyone likes to blame the girl. It's always the whore. Do they not wonder who turned them this way?

"Dally! I want to talk."

Tim came and went. I don't think he told Dally. He might of but I had other suspicions. Mainly a little girl with dark black curls and a cunt the size of a large dog.

He stops. "Gimme my ring back."

"I don't have it."

"Yes you do."

"It's mine. You gave it to me."

"Yeah, and I want it back."

"Well I don't _want_ to give it back."

It's summer time. There's a smell of wet grass and flowers and sunshine. Summer time means love. It's the season for love. It's the months where Dally's back and we're together again and we're going to plan our wedding.

He's heading down the street now. He won't turn around or talk so I run after him. "You can't do this. You're nothing without me! You know that."

I'm running out of breath from trying to keep up with him. He's faster than he looks.

"No one will have you," I say. "You belong with me! I'll kill whoever looks at you. I will. No one will want to get with you after I'm done. I know everything about you, Dallas Winston. I'll ruin you!"

He stops. He doesn't speak right away or make eye-contact. He looks forward and smirks really loudly. "I'd like to see you try. Do what you want Sylvia. But it won't be me you ruin."

At that moment I remember something Lucy told me: "It's okay, Syl. You don't need him or school. Old guys will pay a fortune just to have you look at their dicks."

I do need him though.

Dally didn't turn me this way. I'd never blame him for that. I loved Dally. I know he loved me too. Someone else turned me into the woman I became that day and even days before that. A man that took everything from me. A world that broke me down and turned me over to this. A world that's never been good to me.

I loved Dallas Winston. True love it was. He felt the same, I'm confident, and we were happy. I loved him more than anything. Never let anyone tell you differently. It was me and him in this fight against this world that took everything from us.

And now it's just me.

* * *

**A/N: **There are only a few more chapters left! I hope you all have enjoyed this story so far. Thank you all so much for the reviews and thank you for reading this chapter. Please review!


	7. Ghost of Love

**A/N: **Again, sorry for the delay. Only one chapter left after this one.

* * *

Nights come quicker. Days seem shorter. I can never sleep. I wake up in a new bed, in a new house with very few memories of how I got there or what the night was like. I don't have to drink anymore. It numbs but the pain always comes back. Pills take me to a special place. A place where there's no evil and it's just me in a field of beautiful flowers.

I hear stories of Dally. It's a small town. A town filled with people who are just fascinated with him.

There was a fire. I saw the newspaper with his picture under it. I still have it somewhere.

I went to visit him in the hospital, I think. His friend died. The one he was trying to save. Dally has a lot of pain inside him that he won't let out. It's scary to feel that much and be a person from the outside who also feels the same pain.

We got each other and I think that had something to do with the fact that we were the same type of person. We were both let down by people who were, by law, supposed to take care of us.

We fell through the cracks and landed in Hell. Ever since then, all we've been trying to do is claw our way out but my fingers are bleeding and I don't have any nails left.

So I just give up.

I take a walk every evening when I wake up at about four. I get out my smokes and slowly take in all the people who live among me. And I smile as they stop and stare.

And I think to myself, _yes, I know I'm beautiful_.

But I feel anything but.

Chrissy comes and goes, but at four, she walks with me and it's like we're kids again. We go inside the bakery and flirt with the bread boy until he gives us free sweets and coffee.

We go down the road and admire the jewelry in all the shop windows. On special days, we'll go inside and just take one necklace or pair of earrings. Sometimes I'll get a ring, just to see how it looks on my finger.

Today, it's cold. The new year started and the accident that happened over the summer is almost long forgotten.

My coat is coated with fur but I don't know where I got it. It still smells like the liquor from last night and maybe a hint of vomit here and there and it's a little damp.

I take the long way because Chrissy didn't come today and I wanted to see the fountain.

That's when I see them.

When I see her.

They're laughing together.

He's got his arm around her.

She's wearing his jacket.

I slip behind one of the shops so they can't see me but so I can stare.

I've seen her before. I know her name and her family and her friends. He does too.

I watch her movements and judge her appearance. What would he want with someone like her? A virgin from what I can remember. A little girl who hasn't grown up yet.

She doesn't have the things I do. The things Dally likes: Ass, pussy, breasts. I'm his type. Dallas Winston and Sylvia. That's what this town knows us as. That's who we are supposed to be.

But he's laughing and he's smiling. Things he never did with me.

He's taking her to the movies. I follow them, jumping from alley to alley so no one can see how desperate I've become...not that I care anymore. They already know. I'm not desperate, I'm pathetic.

But he never took me to the movies. Not even after I begged.

I wanted to see _Gone with the Wind_.

Tim took me to a movie once. He won't answer my calls. He runs when he sees me and all his friends laugh.

There's something wet on my face but I can't feel it. I can't feel anything. I haven't for a long time.

There they go. Him and her and all their friends. They're smiling and laughing and they're going in the movies as a group and they're all so happy. They all have girlfriends and they're kissing.

My face gets wetter and wet snow starts to dampen my jacket even more.

Who needs them?

I pull my hood up, and walk back down the road.

* * *

The strong taste of Whiskey soothes my cold throat as I continue to walk even though my feet are frozen. I should be home, in front of the fire with lots of hot chocolate made by Mom.

Home is just a place I visit sometimes.

The streets are my real home.

Someone gets off the bus in front of me. She smells like expensive perfume. The flower kind that makes girls and guys come.

She's wearing boots and a fur coat and she has an expensive cup of coffee in her hand. There's a man with her and they're holding hands and pointing and looking at all the shops.

That when I recognize her. Her golden blonde hair.

"Lucy!"

I run across the street as cars honk. Maybe one will hit me one day. Today's not that day though.

"Lucy!"

She hears me this time, like the sound of her own name is foreign. She turns her head and so does the man and she turns red and looks at the ground. She mumbles something and the man leaves.

"Lucy!" I'm out of breath once I get to her. I bend over and put my hands on my knees and breathe. "Lucy, hey."

She nods a little. "Hi."

"You remember me, don't you?" I ask, coming back up. "Of course you remember me, right?"

She nods again and this time she looks around for a minute like she's looking for someone or to see whose watching. "How...How are you...Sylvia?"

I could tell her everything. I'm so cold and I want you to take me to where ever you came from. I want to go home with you and maybe we can share a bed with that man you were with. That'd be fun.

"Do you want to get something to eat?" I ask. "W-We can catch up! There's a movie showing. Do you wanna go see a movie?"

She lets out a deep sigh. "I can't."

"Oh," I say with disappointment in my voice. I'm used it. It doesn't make it any easier to deal with. "Maybe some other time. What are you doing now? Those are nice clothes. They from your parents? Do you live here?"

She rubs her face. On her side is a designer purse and she pulls a cigarette out of it. "No. I go to college in California."

"College!" I practically scream. "Whose idea was that? I bet it was your parents, right?"

She blows out smoke, sighing again and crossing her arms. "Mine. Look, Sylvia, I'm Lucy anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"I go by Lucile now," she says calmly. "I'm clean. I go to college. That's my rich boyfriend in the coffee shop. I don't fuck around and do drugs, ok? So I don't know what you want, but I need to go and so should you."

It hurts. It hurts a lot. "What?"

She sighs again like I'm some child she can't reason with. "Leave me alone! Is that clear enough? I don't want to be seen with you. I'm not _you_ anymore. I never was. Got it?"

She leaves without another word and her expensive heeled boots click all the way down the street as she joins hands with her boyfriend and they go off to paradise.

I feel the tears this time and I run.

* * *

It's quiet in this gas station bathroom. The people banging on the door can't hear me crying. They knock and I say "taken" and they go away and I cry again. It's really simple.

_She pops her lips again and goes back to the mirror. "Better not say that too loud. Sister Kathryn will come in here. Can you just imagine? Being dragged out by your pretty long hair? She'll march you right down to the office. Oh heavens no!"_

_I laugh, washing my hands with the spring smelling soap. I can't help but watch Lucy through the mirror. The way she fixes her hair and puts on her make-up. I used to sit and watch Chrissy do the same, then she'd do mine._

_"Dallas. You, dead weight?"_

_"If you'd ask a little nicer I might tell you."_

_"I like your bow, Sugar."_

_"That's too much!" Lucy snatches the handful of tissues in my hand and fixes them. "Pull your shirt out. I'll do it."_

_I do as I'm told. I feel her ice cold hand on my breasts. She puts them in places and then fixes my bra to make them look even bigger. She pulls my top down so my cleavage line shows._

_"You look boss, Syl. Dally is gonna be all over you tonight!"_

_It's night again. There are a lot of people downstairs but we lay here, smoking cigarettes at three in the morning._

_"I want you to marry me," I say._

I cry a little harder. I can't tell what time it is but from the window, I can see that it's dark. Most people are going out to dinner or turning in for the night or cuddling up next to their loved ones.

I'm in a fucking gas station bathroom with toilet paper stuck to my shoe.

I gave them everything. I took care of them. I was their reason to live. They loved me. I was their mother and sister and best friend. We had it all. Dallas, Sylvia, Tim and Lucy.

That's the way it's supposed to be.

But they ruined it. They ruined it all.

Once I come out of the bathroom, I walk around the convenient store. My stomach takes me to where the chips are. I get the biggest bag and open it right there. People stare as I rip into it, throwing chip after chip into my mouth.

"What are you fucking staring at?" I shout to everyone around. "Stop fucking staring at me! I'm sick of it! I-I can't help it that I'm so pretty and you can't help it! Stop fucking looking at me!"

They all practically run out of the store. The guy at the counter, Steve, glares at me.

I throw the bag down and casually walk to him. No, I strut, pushing my chest outward.

"I need a sheet of paper," I say softly.

He gazes up for a second. "Sorry."

"I need a fucking sheet of paper!"

He sighs and rolls his eyes and mutters something under his breath about me. He digs under the counter and pulls out a white sheet of scrap paper.

"I need a pen."

Again, he does the same thing, giving me a blue ink pen.

I run back to the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind me. I sit on the toilet and rest the paper on my bare legs. I bear down hard with the pen and I sob as I write everyone...every fucking one who fucked me over.

I have a plan. A plan to fix it. To fix me.

* * *

Chrissy and I went to the park every Saturday. Mom used to take us so Dad could get some work done at home. We'd go on the swings and have contests to see who could go the highest. We'd go down the slides and run and play tag.

We liked the spiny ride the best.

But Chrissy's not here anymore.

So I just get on the spinning wheel and spin myself. Faster, faster, faster until the world flies by me.

"Syl."

"What?"

He hasn't changed. He's gained a few pounds in the belly but everything's still there. His tough nature and face. "C'mon. I want to talk to you. Get in the car."

I drag my feet through the dirt as I spin slower. "No."

"Get in car. You look hungry. I'll buy you some food."

"Why do you care now?" I ask. "It's been two years. Almost three. Why the sudden interest? Got tired of paying Mom to take care of me? Oh, that's right. You don't."

He puts his hands in his pockets. "She found your note."

"So?"

"She called me. She was concerned."

The dirt is still damp from the rain and snow. My shoes are muddy and they smell. "You know, fathers are supposed to protect their daughters. Never let anything bad happen to them. It's like a rule."

"I did protect you Sylvia," he says sternly. "I tried anyway. You were the one who had such crazy thoughts all the time."

The wheel squeaks each time I move. "Something happened to me. I'm sure you knew. But you weren't there. You didn't comfort me. Chrissy did. The same thing happened to her."

"Sylvia."

"You took me to church." I smirk. "Like God was supposed to fix me and my problems. Well, Daddy, God didn't fix me. You can't take a kid to church and tell her it'll fix her! It didn't fix me! You didn't fix me! God didn't fix me."

He jerks my arm. "Let's go."

"No!"

"Sylvia, let's go right now! Get in the car!"

"No! You never helped me. You never helped Chrissy. You pretended as if it never happened. That's why Chrissy died. That's why she went after drugs and bad boys. That's why I'm_ me_!"

He doesn't let up. Some lights come on in homes. "Get in the car!"

"No!"

"I'm getting you help! That's what you want. Get in the fucking car!"

"I'm not going anywhere! No one can help me. Not now. Leave me alone! Just leave me the hell alone!"

I'm not touching the ground anymore. With weight, comes muscle.

I kick, punch, anything I can do but everything goes black so quickly.

So this is where I'm supposed to say goodbye to Tulsa as I look out the window at my kingdom slowly being taken away from me. Look, your queen is leaving. Say goodbye.


	8. Lovely Omen

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the _Outsiders_.

* * *

The lights are too bright. They never go off and they beam at you. It's like you're in the arms of death and there's that bright light everyone talks about. This light that's supposed to take you somewhere great. Take you to a new place with streets of gold and food and tons of love.

"Wake up."

"Go away."

"They're coming to get you today. Pull your shit together and get up. Put a bow in your hair and wear clean clothes. Be nice. Be respectful."

I turn in the bed. I face the wall and squeeze my eyes shut. "I don't know if I can go back. I don't want to go back to those losers and freaks and bastards. Anywhere but there."

"That's your place. That's your town. You run that town. Just imagine what they're doing now without you. Your throne awaits you."

I get up and walk around the room. I walk in circles. I use my tip toes so I seem taller and then I can pretend like I'm a dancer. Like I'm a ballerina and I took that class my mom never allowed me to and I became famous and I'm on Broadway right now, preforming in front of everyone and they love me. They clap and cheer for me. I'm a star.

"Sylvia…"

I do a few turns. The audience goes crazy. They all stand and they clap so loud and they scream for me. I turn and turn until I'm so dizzy and I feel like I'm going to puke but I don't because I'm a star.

"You're not crazy. You know that, right? Baby, just let it go already. Just let it all go. You'll love it. I'm there."

The show's over. The curtain goes down and the lights go out. It's pitch dark and I stand alone on stage. There's no more clapping or cheers. There's no music and there's no one here. I'm standing on stage, alone and lost.

"Why are you here?"

"Because I love you."

"You didn't help me. They told me you weren't real. That I was just imagining you. You said nothing was real. _You're_ not real."

"Don't say that. You can see me, can't you? You can hear me. You see that bed over there and hear those birds outside your window. Are they real?"

"I can't touch you."

"It doesn't matter."

There's a loud scream from next door. My neighbor has more problems than anyone can handle. She doesn't come out. They don't let her out. I passed the room one time. It's the smallest one. There are chains inside. There's a big machine in there and at night, I can hear it being plugged up. I can hear her scream in pain and I can see a bright light from the crack below my door.

The food here really sucks. As I walk around the room, I can feel how small I've gotten. I weighed more when I took speed than I do now. They give us all healthy food because of the fat people here that have depression issues. I would kill for a milkshake. I'm sure I'm not the first one to think about trying.

A girl tried to kill an orderly the second day I got here. It was on the news.

They give me seven pills every day. They won't tell me what they're for or what each one is but they check my mouth afterwards to make sure I've swallowed. I get the lowest amount of the people I talk to. One girl gets twelve. She's almost bald because she pulled all her hair out. Her skin is coated with scars from her own finger nails. She says she's coming off some high stuff. If someone had shown me the ugliness of her face when they were giving the "no drug" talk, I'd listen.

Everyone here looks like shit but there are no mirrors so I don't know if I look the same or not. I can't tell if I still have all my hair or if I have scratches or if I have dirt all over my face. They say it's unhealthy. As if locking us in a little white room for twelve hours a day isn't.

It scares me to be in here. I wouldn't admit that to anyone but it does. It's scary, especially at night. That's when the voices come. Everyone's special friends come out to play with the neighbors and they stop and talk some. Some are evil and they taunt us in our sleep. Others are nice and will sing if you ask. Some don't even talk. They just sit there, watching. By morning, it's as if they weren't there at all.

"Do you want to come home?"

"Maybe."

"Just think happy things. Play the game. That's what it's all about."

"Can you help me?"

"Help you what?"

"I don't know…..just help me?"

"…..No."

I sigh. "You're a real bitch, you know that?"

"And you're the queen b."

"Sylvia, they're ready for you."

* * *

"I want to discuss something with you today, your last day with us."

I'm supposed to leave. There's nothing else to discuss. "What?"

"It's something you wrote during group. Why don't you read it?"

I take the scrap piece of notebook paper he holds out for me. It's folded neatly, the lines touching perfectly. They say that's one sign of me being crazy. I'm a perfectionist. Making sure the edges touch isn't a sign of being crazy.

Then again, everything's a sign of being crazy.

_Five O'clock Sex_

_Five am sex is delicious, relaxing, and slow. You still have sleep in your eyes when you arch your back up as your partner thrusts into you. He has a smell of cigarettes and stale pizza, but you love him all the same. You're meant for each other. Two demons, fighting with each other in the form of sex. You do an effortless giggle, toying with him and he goes for it. The light of day hasn't even hit your eyes yet and here you are, happier than you have probably ever been. It's not sex after a night on the town. It's the second sex you've had because you're thirsty for more. You wake up in your lovers arms, he's smoking and you're waking up with a sensational feeling that he can only fill. It's round two and it's incredible that someone can wake up, seeing your makeup-less face, and want you all over again as he did the night before. He wants you that badly. You're wanted._

_After it's over, the Saturday sun rises. You're coming down from all the alcohol and cigarettes and you land, coming in sequence. You bring a tray of toast and juice into the room and you both lay in your crumbs and relish in the fact that it's five am and you have yet to sleep._

_It's the ending of a night, and the best beginning to a morning anyone can have. It'll never be that way again though. Demons always end up killing each other in the end._

"I did not know you liked to write, Sylvia."

Everyone here calls me Ms. Mason except for my therapist who shall remain nameless. He's a personal guy. Likes to ask a lot of questions.

After I came here, I was pretty messed up. Not really so much physically like I'd prefer. That'd be easy. They want you to make it through the hard stuff like panic attacks and screams so loud it makes your ears bleed. It's your first test here.

I gave up for a long time. I didn't talk. I walked like a ghost, Chrissy by my side. I talked to her more than ever before and she never left my side.

I couldn't eat. Everything tasted like blood.

I couldn't sleep. I'd fall asleep and wake up because I was drowning in my tears.

I couldn't stop crying.

"Are you ready to go home, Sylvia? You know what going home means, right? It means seeing those people again. It means facing your mother and speaking to your father."

He got me to speak to my dad more. We wrote. He wrote everyday but I never wrote back until a few weeks ago. Dad told me about Chrissy and something called bipolar. He said a lot of people in our family have it. He thought I was different.

He apologized for leaving and not helping me.

I told him it was alright. He's gotten me a new apartment in Tulsa so I won't have to stay with Mother. He's working on getting me a job at a department store.

"Are you ready to face this boy?"

"Dallas?"

"He will be there when you get back. You will have to face him at some point."

This has been an endless conversation. Everyone wants to blame him for me being here, except for me. There are many things that drove me to this place. I miss him. But with three packs of cigarettes a day, comes recognition.

The thing that scares me about going back: people will remember the person I was when I left. Or they won't know I left at all. I wasn't the best person when I got on the train. Maybe that's why I wrote what I did. Maybe it wasn't me at all.

His hand strokes my upper thigh and he says softly, his finger tracing my inner skin, "Are you ready to leave, Sylvia?"

I will never be ready for the day I go back to Tulsa. To the ghosts I left behind.

* * *

Everything's the same. I'm dizzy from the train ride but I can still see and take in my surroundings. Everyone's moving on, not looking over at the girl who became a legend in this town along with a boy from New York.

I'd call us the Adam and Eve of this town, but I think that'd be insulting, let alone a sin just to think about.

I don't have many bags so it's not too hard to carry them across the street and into the white building I spent most of my life in.

Candles are lit at the center. Red carpet leads the way to the front.

A cross sits at the very end.

How do you talk to God when it's been so long? How do you apologize? This is not just a regular person. He decides your fate in life. He's the one who's been watching, who knows everything, even the things you yourself don't remember.

He was there all those nights when it was me and a boy, alone in a room and for five minutes, we sinned. I did more than sin these few years and God has sat and watched. He saw me.

I am a child.

How can you watch your child self-destruct?

The red carpet is soft against my knees as I kneel, resting my head on the table set up front with flowers.

I was a child the last time I came here. I had white tights and pink dresses and bows. I wore my hair in pigtails and I ran wild.

Everyone judges here. The room is full of ghosts of people who are doing nothing but whispering and pointing. They know what I have done. They think they know me and that I'm just another whore who went down the wrong path.

Everyone has forgotten me though. No one will remember me.

"Lord, please give me strength."

* * *

It's winter. Snow's on the ground. I'm alone. I can hear birds and a small animal run by, but I am alone.

The water is cold. Almost unbearable but it feels so good against my naked skin.

The mud is what pulls me in. The water pushes me further and further until I'm at my waist. My skin matches the color of the sky and my scars on my inner thighs have been dissolved in the water. The scars I've had there since I was a child.

I shiver, closing my eyes.

It'll only take one dunk.

Tulsa has never been good to me. Life has never been good to me. A lot I could blame on myself. I wasn't smart or strong. I let things get to me. I was easily influenced and I couldn't overcome my struggles and repent, like the nuns taught me.

Other people weren't good to me.

They used my looks against me. Made me punish for being pretty, for having nice legs. They used me and I punished for it every time to where sex just became a word.

I shake.

I was a child. I couldn't put up a fight. I never learned.

So I let someone else use me for my looks. I let them fool me into young love. Then I let another, and another, and another. I let drugs and drinks numb my pain so I wouldn't mind it so much to wake up. I drank more at night so I could act like I enjoyed the sex...but I never did.

I've never been strong.

"Sylvia."

"What?"

"Get your fucking ass out of that water. Are you really _that_ crazy?"

"Please go away."

"I heard where you went."

"Please go away."

"Get out of the water!"

My arms are wrapped around me, my back to the shore. Snowflakes begin to lay on the surrounding ground. It's beautiful out here. Out here where I cannot feel anything in the middle of the water. It's like a scene in Snow White.

One dunk. That's all it would take.

"Why are you here?" I ask.

"Why do you think I'm here?"

"You love me?"

"Will that make your dumb ass get out of the water?"

"Probably not. It'd be nice to know though."

A bird starts to sing overhead. The song of death. It's passing the word around - the laughing stock of Tulsa is dying. She's dead. She's never coming back.

People don't laugh about the dead. They remember though. They'll remember what happened on this day.

"Get out of the fucking water!"

Sludge and mud seep in-between my toes. Snow coats my hair and I'm just a figure from the shore.

"Don't do this! Are you a fucking idiot? You dumb piece of shit, get your ass up here! Don't make me get you out."

You won't.

"Sylvia!"

I was their fallen queen, and that's what they'll remember me as. They'll remember me for some time. My name will be known. I'll have my glory come morning.

Just one dunk.

One...

"Don't you do it!"

Two...

"Please get out of the water. Get up here now!"

"Remember me. Don't forget about me. Please don't ever forget about me."

Three...

"Sylvia!"

"Are you ready to go?" she whispers in my hair. Her hands warm my body as they run through my hair. She hugs me and I'm not longer freezing. I'm not blue anymore. "I love you, baby sister."

"I love you too."

"I won't let anyone hurt you again."

The air feels light, like it's not there and I'm floating. I'm in her arms, laying at peace. "I know you won't."

"Welcome home, Sylvia. Welcome home."

* * *

**A/N: **Thank you all for the support as I've closed up another story.

Be on the lookout for the newest short story in the works: _Dear Winston_


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